The Phoenix
by bri wesmoreland
Summary: AU story set after the Season 2, but before the Expanse. This is the story of Commander Charles Anthony Tucker, III and his remarkable journey from a life changing event at the hands of an unknown hostile alien race, to something no one expected, not even himself. Eventually TnT.
1. Prologue

Prologue

They were surrounded by a group of Nausicaans on what they thought was a deserted planet near Rigel X. They had responded to a distress call, but it had been a trap. Archer's group had been forced to surrender their weapons and it seemed that the Nausicaans wanted to engage in a little sport.

"How many of them are there?" Jonathan Archer, the Captain asked.

"At least seven," Malcolm Reed, the ship's Tactical Officer answered.

"Captain, what are your orders?" T'Pol, the ship's beautiful Vulcan Science

Officer and XO, asked. "We are clearly out-numbered. Should we attempt a diplomatic solution?"

"Leave it up to you T'Pol to be talkin' about diplomatic solutions at a time like this," Trip Tucker, the ship's Chief Engineer snapped.

"There is no other logical conclusion Commander. It makes no sense to engage in a fight we cannot possibly win."

"Speak for yourself," Trip snapped again. "I say we take 'em!"

"Are you serious?" Reed asked. "Stand and fight?"

"It would be suicide to attempt it," T'Pol responded flatly.

"No, it would be - not throwin' in the towel, not jumpin ship, but going down fightin'!" Trip snapped back at her.

"It would be illogical to proceed."

"Nobody, nobody, but you T'Pol, would be thinkin' about logic when they're about to get their ass kicked, possibly killed!"

"I am merely suggesting that perhaps we should attempt to establish a dialogue."

"A dialogue!," Trip replied. "You gotta be kiddin' me. Do these guys look like they wanna talk?!"

"Now, now children," Captain Archer said calmly. "This is not the time."

"Perhaps we should consider surrendering," Malcolm interjected. "We may have an opportunity to escape once we figure out what we're up against."

"Not a chance," Jon replied. "They'll just kill us later. Besides, we're not exactly outnumbered. Malcolm, you and I can take the two on the right. T'Pol, you take the one right in front of us, and Trip, you take the rest."

"Take the rest?!" Malcolm almost shouted. "Impossible!"

"Speak for yourself!" Trip replied. With that he leapt forward at two of the Nausicans. He came down grabbing the heads of each of them and crashed them together, knocking them to the ground unconscious. The others attacked the small band of Starfleet officers as Trip immediately attacked another of their opponents. He struck the Nausicaan in the throat cutting off his air supply, killing him. T'Pol was holding her own against her guy, while Malcolm and Captain Archer struggled.

When Trip realized Malcolm was in trouble, he flew to his side, grabbing the Nausicaan from the back and twisting his neck. He fell to the ground dead. T'Pol finally dispatched her opponent to the ground and leapt on top of him applying a kick to his head, rendering him unconscious. One of the last two Nausicaans still standing pushed Jon to the ground hard and fled, the other one ran in the opposite direction. Trip quickly raced after one of them, caught him from behind and hurdled him to the ground. He put a boot in his throat and held it until the Nausican stopped breathing.

Trip then started for the two he had knocked unconscious. Archer stepped in front of him. "Trip, what are you doing?"

"Finishing the job," he said as he grabbed one of their opponents who was regaining consciousness.

"He's already down. Malcolm," Archer beckoned. The tactical officer hurried over and picked up one of their phase pistols from the ground and held it over the Nausicaan. Trip glared at Archer.

"You're not gonna let them go?!" he shouted.

"I think there's been enough bloodshed today," Archer replied looking around at the assailants Trip had killed.

"They woulda killed us if they had the chance! I say they die!"

"Stand down Commander!" Archer spat out. "That's an order!" Trip looked at Archer, then back at the Nausicaan, but still held his grip on him.

_'Don't do it, Trip_,' Malcolm thought. T'Pol then came over and began to loosen Trip's hands from his would be victim.

"Let's take a walk Commander," Archer said, knowing he needed to help his friend get his control back. He clasped his arm around Trip's shoulders and led him away from the others. Malcolm and T'Pol watched them go.

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm said to T'Pol, "who the hell is that guy, and what has he done with our Trip Tucker?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

One Year Ago.

Trip sat alone in his quarters on his bunk thinking. It had been one week since he had been released from sick bay, but he still felt sick. Most of his burns and scars were healing, but he was still having headaches and ringing in his ears. His vision was blurred and his back was simply put, killing him. Dr. Phlox had said that the broken back would take longest to heal, and that he may still experience pain and discomfort in it that may never completely go away. But, Trip had no recollection of how his back had come to be broken, nor the circumstances surrounding his rescue. Some of his memories were intact, and they were deeply disturbing. Others, however, he had totally repressed.

Jon and Malcolm had been beside themselves with worry and guilt while Trip was missing. He had been gone for over five weeks, abducted by a species unknown to anyone so far. The Lisyrians were a violent, angry, brutal race of sadistic aliens that were about eight feet tall, with lion-like heads and faces. They were very strong and mean, so much so they made the Klingons seem like boy scouts. They killed for sport and occasionally ate the flesh of other species.

What had saved Trip from certain execution was his knowledge of engines, repair skills and creativity in solving problems. He also amused them as they had never seen anyone like him. So, they had enslaved him, put a collar around his neck and placed him in a cage. He was beaten and tortured to keep him in line. When he was finally rescued, he was near death, wanted to die. He even thought about committing suicide more than once over the last three weeks since he had been back on Enterprise, but he kept coming up with reasons not to do it.

The question was now, whether to stay or go. Trip had told Captain Archer that he was no longer fit to serve on a star ship, or perhaps even to work at all. All he wanted to do now was to go home. He couldn't handle the fear, the pain, and the images in his mind of his torture as well as others. The smell of death haunted him.

He had been taken on an away mission on a small planet near Coridian called Sorazons. Enterprise had visited the planet and delivered supplies and medicine to their government. Trip was there helping to make repairs to their generator that powered their main city. The Lisyrians had raided the city, destroyed the power plant and took the workers for slaves and food. Trip was taken along with them.

Enterprise had searched and pursued the Lisyrians, following every possible lead for several weeks. By the time Enterprise found them, it was not a minute too soon. It took Enterprise, the Andorian ship Kumari, along with two battle cruisers from Krios Prime to defeat the massive Lisyrian ship that had been terrorizing that area of space for several months. Four hundred, twenty three slaves of various species had been rescued. Trip was one of them.

Now he was back on Enterprise and while he was healing from his physical injuries, he was mentally, a mess. Captain Archer had told Trip to take a few days to think about whether he really wanted to end his career. Trip had told him he would do so, but he really couldn't see staying. He was too much of a wreck. He lay there on his bunk and slowly drifted off to sleep.

He was on that god-forsaken Lisyrian ship. He was serving the beasts their dinner. It was some live, some half-dead tiny dog looking creatures. Trip had to work very hard to keep from crying and throwing up. He had shackles on his ankles and wrists and a collar around his neck. He wore little more than a loin-cloth adding to his humiliation. He already had a series of fresh and healing bruises on his back where he had been whipped every three or four days. His feet hurt from being forced to walk across hot coals as entertainment for the Lysirians. They found him to be an amusing little creature.

At first they didn't know whether to kill him and eat him or to make him a slave. He was so puny and little. Most of their slaves were large robust species; some of their own people who had fallen from grace or who had committed crimes, some Orions, Nausicans, even Klingons, along with the Sorazonians. There were also species Trip had never seen before.

He poured their foul drink into large cups as they swallowed the swill that looked and smelled like sewer water. He winced and gagged as they devoured their meals. One of them heard him wince.

"Hey, slave!" he shouted and reached and grabbed Trip by the throat. As uncivilized as they were, they had a universal translator since there were so many species on the monstrosity they called a ship. It was more like a floating city with over 1,000 people on it. "You wouldn't be disgusted by our dinner would you?" he snarled. Trip tried to shake his head no. The creature threw him across the room. "For that you get 20!" he shouted, then beckoned for the guard to come over with a whip.

"No, no, please!" Trip cried out. "I'm sorry… it won't h-happen again!" But the guard grabbed him and threw him over a bench and chained him down. He drew back his whip and begin to beat Trip as he cried out with each blow. The whip accidently hit him on the side of the face and cut a long scar which started to bleed. The head Lisyrian jumped to his feet.

"I told you never to touch his face! Never to mess up his pretty face! Now look what you've done!" he screamed, "You've ruined it!" With that he leapt upon the guard and started beating him. Several others jumped in, beating him and ripping the guard apart. Trip watched in horror. He lay there bleeding and crying, wishing he was dead.

Suddenly, three Lisyrian women came in and picked him up. They took him to the infirmary and began to clean and dress his wounds.

"Make sure that scar on his face is properly treated and that it heals completely," one of the lionesses said.

"What about the eyes?" another one asked. "What's wrong with his eyes?"

"Master Klegg has already assured us that if anything happened to his eyes or his face, we would surely be put to death."

"I think he is hurting and perhaps sad," the third lioness said. "I have noticed before that his eyes leak whenever he is disciplined or sometimes when he is alone in his cage."

"There, there, Beautiful One," she said using the name he had been given as she brushed his hair back. "It is alright. I am Vendria, a physician. My assistants are Kaatia and Malvek. We will take care of you for a time. We will tell the Master that it will take 3 to 4 days for you to be better and back to your duties."

"Yes, dearest," the Kaatia said. "We will dress your wounds, keep you clean and warm, and feed you good food, at least for a few days."

"L-let me d-die…" Trip all but mumbled. "Please, have mercy, I-I can't do this anymore… I just want t-to die."

"No, no, no," Vendria said. "If you die, we will all die. We must treat you, and treat you we will; you must live Beautiful One."

"Oh dear," Kaatia said, "he is leaking again."

Trip jumped up from his bunk so fast he fell out of the bed onto the floor. He was panting, almost hyperventilating. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it would burst from his chest. Then he realized, he wasn't dreaming. He was there! He was actually back there on the ship where he had lost everything. He pulled himself up from the floor, still in his Starfleet blue underwear. He stumbled into the hallway. He had to get away, where he was going he didn't know, he just knew he had to get out before his heart exploded or he lost what was left of his mind.

He stumbled down the corridor watching as it got longer and longer. He saw faces and heard voices but nothing was coherent to him. He covered his ears to block out the noise, that is, everything but his own screams. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. He felt hands touching him as he keeled over, then fell to the floor. The darkness consumed him.

Two Hours Later

"How is he?" Captain Archer asked Dr. Phlox, looking down at the sleeping engineer. T'Pol followed closely behind Archer.

"Resting comfortably," Phlox replied, "thanks to my hypo spray."

"Is there nothing more you can do for him doctor?" T'Pol asked.

"I am doing all I can, but he is in pretty bad shape."

"But, he is going to get better?" Archer asked. "I mean, he hasn't been able to talk about what happened to him on that alien ship, but from what some of the others told us, and from what we were able to piece together…" Archer shuddered at his own thoughts and words. T'Pol shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She had actually interviewed some of the victims on the Lisyrian ship. She had been appalled by the carnage.

"Yes Captain. Mr. Tucker was treated horrendously, enslaved, beaten, tortured, made sport of, humiliated, Phlox said."

"How could anyone be okay after that?"Archer spat.

Suddenly Trip began to stir. Both Phlox and Archer moved toward the bio bed. He jumped and looked around as if frightened.

"No! No!" he shouted, cowering from the two men standing over him. "I didn't mean anything by it! Please don't punish me!" Archer and Phlox grabbed his arms as he tried to fight them off.

"Doctor," T'Pol said as she handed him a hypo spray and moved to the side of the bed where Phlox stood.

"Trip! Trip!" It's me, Jon! You're safe, you're on Enterprise!"

"Calm down now Commander. I don't want to have to sedate you again," Phlox said.

"Commander," T'Pol said, grabbing hold of Trip's arm as Phlox adjusted the hypo spray. "It is alright Commander. We are your friends, we will not hurt you," she said in a soothing voice. After a few more moments Trip stopped struggling. He looked at Jon and T'Pol and let out a long sigh. They let go of him and he fell back on the bed.

"I could have sworn… I was back… back… on that that alien ship…" he choked out. "I could see it… s-see them. Smell the filth, the blood… death… death all around! No, no, no no, don't punish me again! Stop, please stop! I won't disappoint you again, I swear it!" Trip cried out, then let out a sob. Phlox depressed a hypo spray against his neck, and Trip quickly drifted off to sleep again. Phlox then turned to look at Archer. The Captain just looked at the floor.

"Take care of him," is all he said, then turned and left sick bay.

"Captain wait," T'Pol called after him. Archer stopped and turned to face her. "You wish to help the Commander?"

"Of course I do."

"Then there may be a way. On Vulcan there is a procedure called the Falara. It is a process whereby one's mind is purged of negative thoughts, memories and emotions associated with an event." Archer considered this for a moment.

"How do you know something like that would work on Trip, being a human?"

"I don't. But Captain, Commander Tucker is in great turmoil and emotional distress. He cannot function, and while I would find it unfortunate to see him have to leave the ship, I doubt that he is fit for duty."

"For a minute there T'Pol I thought you actually cared," Archer snapped.

"I do care Captain. Commander Tucker is an excellent engineer and officer. He is also… a friend. I would hate to see his career jeopardized or end because of his current state. However, it would be even more distressing to see him loose more of himself, his brilliant mind, if we, his colleagues, and his friends do not face reality and allow him to continue serving in a sometimes stressful and dangerous environment. He needs our help and our protection. Being in denial about his condition would not afford him that." Archer looked away for a moment.

"You're right T'Pol, sorry…"

"No need to apologize Captain, my feelings were not hurt." Archer smiled a bit.

"Can you get me some more information on this purging process?"

"Yes Captain," she nodded and walked away. Archer watched her go, then looked back at sick bay. He blew out a long sigh, as he walked away. Sometimes he really didn't like being out in space.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

For the next few days, Trip kept to himself. He was officially off duty, but he didn't care. He really didn't want to be around anyone. There were times when he couldn't get out of bed. There were times when he would just burst into tears. He screamed at night in his sleep, causing Phlox to have to come to his quarters and sedate him as others reported the screaming.

They had broken him, everything that he was seemed to be gone, so was his will, and all that was left was an empty shell. How could he be of any use to anyone now? He couldn't. His mother would gladly have him home, but he couldn't face his family right now. He didn't want them to see him like this. He had always been close to his sister Lizzy and thought about calling her several times, but he couldn't. He just couldn't bring himself to talk about his experience, and he still couldn't remember all of it. There were holes in his memory and he lived with the fear that one day, it would return revealing more horrors.

Phlox had said that Trip was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, depression and anxiety disorder. Physically, he was also experiencing the residual effects of being tortured and having his back broken. He had required immediate surgery as soon as he was back on Enterprise and Dr. Phlox had been able to repair his injured back with no resulting paralysis. But he was wearing a back brace and still in pain.

Trip thought maybe he should just check himself into one of Starfleet's medical facilities and join the ranks of the disabled. He could even live his life out in one of their private, obscure facilities for injured and disabled service people. He would fit right in now, because he was surely injured and disabled, from the inside out.

After a few days Phlox had allowed him to return to half-time duties. Trip had resolved within himself that he would work as hard as he could to do his job. He had always loved being an engineer, and right now, his job was all that he had to hold on to.

At breakfast on his first day back, he tried to get in and out of the mess hall before anyone noticed him. Phlox had said one of the conditions for releasing him from sick bay and going back to work was that he had to eat. Ever since he had returned from the Lisyrian ship he had had trouble getting and keeping food down. He was under weight and that concerned the doctor. But, what he had seen and experienced on that ship was etched in his mind and the sight of food now nauseated him most of the time, especially meat.

Trip grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit, a pastry, some yogurt and a cup of coffee and sat down in a corner in the back of the mess hall. He had not taken any, but having seen the bacon, sausage and ham, along with the smell was making him sick. He put his hand over his face for a few moments.

"Commander," a voice said. Trip looked up at Ensign Hoshi Sato, the ship's linguist and Communications Officer. "May I join you?" she asked. The last thing Trip wanted was company, but he didn't want to be rude.

"Sure, have a seat," he finally said.

"Are you alright?" Hoshi asked. "You don't look so well."

"I'm okay. Just trying…Phlox made me promise to eat something, in the mess hall at least twice a day."

"Well you didn't take very much. Sure you don't want to get some protein?

"No!" Trip said, reaching for Hoshi's hand. That startled her. "I'm sorry, Hoshi, guess I'm a little jumpy today."

"It's alright," Hoshi replied observing him for a few minutes as she ate her oatmeal and fruit. Trip still had not eaten anything. Being an expert in language and body language, Hoshi determined that the sight and smell of food seemed to disgust him.

"You know it helps if you cut it up in very small pieces and eat very slowly. It also helps if you engage in a conversation with a friend while doing it; it'll take your mind off of what you're doing." Hoshi then leaned over and begin to cut up the food on Trip's plate. She then begin to engage him in a conversation about warp drive, how the engines jumping to warp always unnerved her, and how he could tell when they were at different levels of warp. Pretty soon he had eaten most of the food on his plate.

Trip smiled a little. "Guess I better be getting to engineering. Don't wanna be late my first day back."

"Have a good shift Commander."

"Thanks Hoshi," he said rising.

"You would do the same for me," she said. He nodded and she watched him walk away. She smiled thinking that she just may need to accidently, bump into him at other meals as well.

Engineering, 0300 hours.

Trip was going through the motions of working. He sat in his office and tried to read over engineering reports, duty rosters and repair requests. But he couldn't concentrate. He tossed a padd across his desk and buried his head in his hands.

"I hope that wasn't my very lively and interesting request for upgrades in the armory," an accented voice said. Trip looked up and half-way smiled.

"Hey Mal," Trip said, "That wasn't your request, there's yours," he said pointing to the trash can sitting next to his desk.

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm said.

"Just kiddin, just kiddin. You're such an easy target," Trip grinned. "What brings you down to the dungeon?" Malcolm frowned. Since when did Trip refer to engineering as a dungeon?

"Looking for you. Thought I'd look in on you, see if you needed help with anything."

"Jon send you to spy on me?" Trip asked squinting his eyes.

"No. But the Captain is worried about you, so am I. How are you really Trip? You can't seem to eat; I know you don't sleep well. You know you can't keep going like this."

"I know Mal, I know. It's just that…" Trip lowered his head.

"You know you can talk to me," Malcolm said. "No matter what it is, how bad it is."

"Trust me, you don't wanna know Mal. Besides, I can't, can't verbalize it. I can't put it in to words. Don't want to. I just want to forget."

"Phlox said it isn't healthy for you to try and keep it all in. He said you need to talk about it."

"I can't I tell you!" Trip said as he got up from his seat and started pacing around his office very fast.

"Okay, okay," Malcolm said. "Calm down. I'm sorry, didn't mean to push you." Trip stopped pacing and blew out a sigh.

"It's not your fault. I just… I need to concentrate real hard to do my job. I can't sit around thinking about the past if I'm gonna make it through the day."

"What about movies, you can think about movies, right?" Malcolm said quickly changing the subject.

"Movies?'

"Yes, of course. It's my turn to pick and I could use some suggestions. I was thinking about a couple of 20th century classics like, "Battle of the Bulge", "Patton," or "Bridge Over the River Kwai!"

"War movies," Trip said as if exasperated.

"Those are fine movies, rather exemplary I'd venture to say."

"If you ask me you can stick with that era, but I'd suggest something that others might find more entertainin', like "The Exorcist," or "Poltergeist."

"Horror movies!" Malcolm whined. "Well I suppose those are good for something; getting the women to cozy up to you." Trip actually laughed.

"You got a date?" he beamed. "Who is it? C'mon Mal, spill it. Its crewman Barry isn't it? I've seen the way you look at her. Or, or maybe it's Ensign Cutler, yeah, it's her isn't it."

"No, it's neither of them. Besides, it's just a friend, someone we both know and love." Trip thought for a moment.

"Hoshi? You asked Hoshi on a date?" Trip grinned with delight. "It's about time."

"Oh for heaven's sakes, it's not like that with Hoshi and me. We're just good friends. Well, maybe I'd like it to be more but…"

"Well don't be a chicken Malcolm. You only live once. Go for it!" For a while Malcolm was delighted to be having this conversation. It was the best one he and Trip had had in a long time. They talked, laughed, even looked at Malcolm's request for upgrades in the armory. Thirty minutes later he had even convinced Trip to come to movie night.

"Alright, it's settled, you're coming tonight, 0800. But, now you have to ask someone to join you," Malcolm suggested.

"Ohhh no," Trip replied. "Don't think I wanna get involved in the double dating scene. I said I would come, that's gonna have to do for now. Besides, just who would I ask?"

"It certainly will not do," Malcolm replied. "What about Hess? The two of you get on rather well."

"Naw, too much like my sister; besides she's on my staff."

"Well, you could ask Cutler. She's cute."

"C'mom Mal, it's not about being cute…"

"Oh, I see," Malcolm grinned. "It's about being a little more than just cute, right? It's about lips and eyes and cat suits!"

"What? Just what are you try-na say Lieutenant?" Trip said folding his arms and leaning back on his desk as he stared at Malcolm.

"Why don't you admit it? You fancy a certain Vulcan Science Officer. So ask her. After all she's got that nice bum, and she really is the beautiful one amongst women on this ship." Trip froze in his tracks. _Beautiful One, Beautiful One, Beautiful One_, is all he heard.

The Lisyrian Ship.

"Look at it," the big lion-like creature said. "Look at its eyes! Pretty isn't it!" Trip winced at the three large creatures staring down at him. He was on their ship, locked in a cell one minute, in their Captain's quarters the next. He had no idea what they were going to do to him. He had already been stripped down and hosed off like an animal, poked at and examined. It had been humiliating.

"What did I tell you Master Klegg," one of the creatures said. "We were going to skin it and serve it at your banquet, but it kept looking at me with those eyes, those beautiful eyes."

"It was wise of you not to kill it," the Captain said. "It would have been ignorant to eat such a rare thing. What is it called? Can it speak?"

"It could before we put his collar on him. The guards hit him in his throat."

"So it's male?' the Captain asked.

"Yes, the doctor confirmed it. What shall we do with it Master Klegg?

"Put him in with my personal collection."

"You mean the harem? You would like to mate with it?"

"Didn't you just say it was male?"

"So what?" the guard asked. Trip cringed, his fear level rising.

"Shut up!" Klegg shouted. "You are frightening him! If anyone is to frighten him it will be me!"

"Yes my Lord," the other creatures said bowing.

"I do not wish to eat him, nor mate with him. He is so small, fragile, and pretty. Surely such a creature was meant as a toy, a play thing," Klegg said as he rubbed Trip's face. Trip shuddered. "Take this, _Beautiful One_, and put him in the cage in the room with all my other most prized possessions. He will be my personal servant and companion. Give him 20 lashes first, his first lesson in discipline. But do not, under any circumstances, harm that lovely face, now go!"

From that day forward, Trip was known as "Beautiful One." He hated it, he hated them, and he hated himself. He should have found a way to escape, or had the courage to end it all. But being bound and chained inside a cage by night, clad with leg irons and shackles by day, or being strapped to an experiment table in a lab, left little opportunity for committing suicide.

Back in Engineering.

Trip was on the floor, curled up in a corner, screaming his head off. One minute he was talking to Malcolm about making a date for movie night, the next minute he was screaming. He banged his head against the wall and screamed at the top of his lungs. He would not let Malcolm get near him or touch him. Malcolm had called Phlox stating that there was a medical emergency in engineering. He had also called Captain Archer and told him to get to engineering immediately.

Phlox and Archer got to engineering at the same time. They almost bumped in to one another at the door. "Captain, please," Phlox spat out. Archer stepped aside and let Phlox enter first, he hurried in behind him. Trip was still in the corner screaming.

"Commander, Commander Tucker?" Phlox called out. Archer gasped at what he saw. Trip was holding a piece of glass from a broken padd in his hand. He had it gripped so tightly that blood was tricking down his hand and arm. There was also blood on the wall where he was banging his head.

"Commander, put the glass down. It's me, Dr. Phlox. Captain, talk to him," Phlox suggested. Archer moved closer toward his friend.

"Commander," he called out! "Commander Tucker, Trip!" Suddenly Trip stopped screaming. He gasped for air, jumped to a sitting position on the floor and begin to look around the room as if he just realized where he was. He looked up at Archer, Phlox and Malcolm still gasping for air.

"C'mon Trip, put it down," Archer said in a calming voice. "Give me the glass, c'mon, give it to me. You're alright Trip, no one is going to hurt you," Archer said reaching for the piece of glass. Trip looked at his bleeding hand, then looked back up at Archer. He slowly reached his hand out and gave Archer the shard. Phlox hurried over and bent down beside the engineer.

Archer handed the shard to Malcolm, who disposed of it. Phlox examined Trip's hand and his bleeding head. He then ran his scanner over him.

"Blood pressure's sky high, lymphatic system is overloaded, and his heart rate is accelerated. We need to get him to sick bay immediately." Trip suddenly fell over, unconscious. Archer and Phlox grabbed him before he hit the floor.

"Lt. Reed, get two medics down here with a stretcher right away, "Phlox said taking control of the situation. Captain, can you clear the area? The Commander would not want his people to see him like this." Archer nodded, and moved outside of Trip's office.

"Listen, all of you," Archer shouted to the crowd that had gathered outside of Trip's office. "I want everyone to get back to work, right now. And I don't want to hear a word of this outside these walls. That's your CO in there, and he's not at his best right now. He's been through a lot and it's going to take some time for him to get back on track. So, if you care anything about him, if you have any respect for him, do not repeat anything that happened here today, that's an order. If I find out that anyone has discussed this incident with anyone else on this ship, you _will _answer to me! Now clear this area and get back to work."

Archer had been a little more forceful than he had meant to be, but he didn't want this all over the ship. He and Malcolm watched as the medics removed the Commander from his office, Phlox following close behind.

"What the hell happened Malcolm?" Archer asked. "I told you to check on him; how did he end up in hysterics!"

"Captain, I tell you we were chatting, laughing even. He had agreed to come to movie night. One minute we were talking and laughing, the next he was balled up in the corner screaming and trying to defend himself with that piece of glass. I swear Captain, I don't know what triggered that reaction." Malcolm looked so bewildered and concerned that Archer pulled his anger in.

"I'm sorry Malcolm. I'm sure it wasn't your fault. I want you to stay down here until this shift ends, make sure everyone keep their mouths shut and ensure that Lt. Hess can handle things. I'm heading to sick bay."

"Aye Captain," Malcolm replied, then set off to find Hess.

Sick Bay.

Captain Archer paced the floor of sick bay backwards and forwards waiting for Phlox to stabilize his friend and talk to him. He shook his head trying to figure out how he could help Trip.

"Captain," Phlox said as he closed the curtain behind him glancing back at the bio-bed where Trip lay. Archer stopped pacing and looked up.

"I thought you said he was ready to return to duty at least half time doctor. What the hell happened?"

"As you recall Captain, it was not I, but you who insisted that Commander Tucker be allowed to try and return to work. I agreed, reluctantly, against my better judgment." Archer sighed. He knew Phlox was right. The doctor had not wanted Trip to return to duty, but Archer had fought him and insisted that they let him try, just to see how things went.

"Captain, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a very difficult thing to treat. Until this is under control, he is going to have flashbacks that will render him non-functional. While I am a licensed psychiatrist, I have no experience in treating this disorder in a human. I am doing all I can, but it does not seem to be enough."

"There has to be something more you can do; something we all can do to help him. You know he's requested to leave the ship. He doesn't think he's fit for duty."

"He's not Captain, we both know that he is not, nor may ever be again."

"I can't just give up on him Phlox. I've gotta find a way to help him."

"He needs to go home Captain. You can't help him, not this time. He needs professional help, long term professional help."

"Can't you set him up with a Starfleet doctor via telecom? That could help, right?"

"Perhaps, but..." Phlox started to say.

"Look, we're scheduled to return home in two months. Once there we'll be on shore leave for three more months. Why send him home now? Its eight weeks, eight weeks doc. A lot can happen in eight weeks." Phlox looked at Captain Archer and blew out a long sigh.

"Very well Captain, eight weeks. I will agree that Commander Tucker can stay aboard until we return home in eight weeks. That is if he agrees to treatment, no exceptions. But, he is off duty until further notice, those are my terms."

"Fair enough," Archer conceded holding up his hands. "Fair enough."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

That night, Mess Hall, 1100 hours.

Travis and Hoshi entered the mess hall after the movie. Malcolm had left half way through, unable to concentrate on it. His mind just kept wandering back to his friend and the scene in engineering earlier that day. Malcolm didn't have many friends and actually Trip was his first real friend. He had had girl friends and good buds over the years, but not a real friend, someone to talk to, really talk about real stuff with; someone to share hopes and dreams with, fears and insecurities with. No, Malcolm had never had such a person in his life until Trip Tucker broke through his wall. And for the last two years he and Trip had spent a lot of time together and gotten very close. Malcolm had now been able to form friendships with Hoshi and Travis as well.

"Mind if we join you?" Travis asked. Malcolm looked up at the young helmsman but did not respond.

"Earth to Malcolm, Earth to Malcolm," Hoshi interjected.

"Oh uh, yes, sure, of course, sit, sit," Malcolm finally said.

"Boy, you sure are far away," Hoshi said putting her snack and drink on the table. "And really acting weird."

"Yeah, what's going on?" Travis asked. "You know, nothing seems right ever since the Commander was kidnapped. And still things aren't right since he's been back."

"What do you mean?" Malcolm asked.

"Travis and I are often left out of the loop even though we're bridge officers," Hoshi said. "But I listen and I observe people. We know Commander Tucker is in a bad way. We just don't know all of what happened to him on that alien ship."

"Yeah," Travis said. "The Captain briefed us right after he was rescued. We know he was enslaved and tortured."

"Bloody hell!" Malcolm mumbled. "Look guys, Trip was treated horribly at the hands of those lion-looking bastards. It's had a tremendous effect on him; a life changing effect. I don't know if he'll ever be the same. I can't say too much beyond that, partly because I don't know too much more than that, and partly because I'm under orders not to talk about it."

Hoshi and Travis looked at one another. "We understand, Travis said. "But, we're his friends too. We wanna help. But, we're always kept on the outside, looking in."

"We're not trying to be nosy," Hoshi added. "Travis is right, we just wanna help. We care about Trip too." Suddenly T'Pol was standing next to them.

"May I join you?" she asked.

"Yes of course," Hoshi said. "We were just discussing Commander Tucker. Travis and I was just saying, it isn't right that we are kept in the dark where he is concerned. We're his friends too, and we just want to help."

"That is admirable Ensign," T'Pol replied. "But Commander Tucker is in a very fragile state right now. And you know as well as I do that he would not want anyone to see him in such a way. This is difficult for him, for all of us." Malcolm and Travis looked at one another, they thought they saw genuine concern on T'Pol's face. Hoshi knew she saw it. T'Pol was worried about Trip.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Travis asked.

"Actually, I believe there is," T'Pol said. "Dr. Phlox wishes for Commander Tucker to begin physical therapy. He is still having considerable pain due to his broken back. He will need someone to help him with the exercises and to encourage him to eat as well. He is still malnourished and having trouble eating."

"We could take turns," Malcolm said. "Maybe after a while, he'll want to open up a bit and talk. Phlox said talking it out would help too."

"Could we make up a schedule?" Travis asked. "That is if he agrees."

"I will speak to the doctor and to the Captain," T'Pol replied.

Two Days Later.

Trip lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He was still off duty after what happened in engineering, but he was actually glad. He was tired, so tired of the dreams, the flashbacks, and the memories. He was also afraid of falling apart in front of the crew again. He had tendered his resignation, but Archer would not accept it. Trip had insisted however, that he was going back to Earth. He could not do this anymore.

Archer and Phlox had encouraged him, pushed him and insisted that he talk to someone, but so far, he had not been able to. How could he verbalize what had happened to him? If he did so, it would cause him to remember it, to see it, to feel it, to relive it. What a mess his life was.

Suddenly his door chime went off. _Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone, _he thought_. _"Come in," he said dryly. It was T'Pol.

"Commander," she said standing in front of his desk with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"Dr. Phlox wants you to begin physical therapy to strengthen your back and assist with the healing process. Several of the bridge Officers have agreed to take turns assisting you with these exercises," she explained handing him a padd. He didn't even look at it, he just tossed it aside.

"I can't do it," he replied. "I'm still in too much pain. It hurts to walk, to sit or stand for very long, to bend over or pick up more than 10 lbs."

"That is precisely the reason for the exercises. You cannot properly heal without this therapy."

"I said I can't do it!" he snapped.

"You haven't even tried," T'Pol said firmly.

"What's the point? I'm going home anyway, going on inactive duty, so leave me alone!"

"I will not leave you alone Commander. You are still a member of this crew, and part of my job as First Officer is the well being of the crew. You are not well, and part of your prescribed treatment is physical therapy, and you are going to participate."

"Just who do you think you are?" Trip snapped getting angry.

"I just told you, I am the First Officer of this Ship, the XO if you like, and your Superior Officer."

"I don't care who you are, you can't tell me what I'm gonna do! Trip said rising from his bunk quickly and abruptly. But a pain hit him in his back. He gasped and almost fell over. T'Pol caught him and steadied him. She then helped him to sit back down on his bunk as he grimaced in pain.

"Should I call for the doctor?" T'Pol asked as Trip continued to grimace in pain.

"No. Just gimme… a minute," he said, holding up his hand. He tried to move again, but found that the pain was still there.

"Remain still Commander," she said. Then she sat on the bunk and slipped behind him.

"What are you doing?" he asked confused.

"Helping you get a handle on the pain. Now hold still." With that she slid her hands under his pajama top. He flinched, but she waited until he was still. She then begin to apply pressure to certain areas of his back and to massage the area around his vertebrae.

"Take a deep breath," she instructed. "Now let it out." He did as he was told and she continued to massage his back. "Again", she said. She continued to work on him for about ten minutes. He was surprised that this was actually working. His pain was subsiding without the help of one of Phlox's hypo sprays. She then rose from the bed.

"Take your shirt off and lie on your stomach," she directed. He looked at her confused and surprised at what she was doing, but followed her instructions and lay down on the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed beside him and continued the message therapy for another ten minutes. She then massaged his neck, head and shoulders. He was half asleep when she finally finished.

"You should be feeling considerably better now," she said.

"I'll say," Trip said as he sat up. "The pain is completely gone. What was that?"

"It's called Vulcan Neuro-pressure," she replied. "It is a most effective method of treatment."

"You ain't never lied," he said.

"Ain't never lied?" she said as she raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, you're right, it was definitely effective. But…" he started looking at her warily. "I thought Vulcans didn't like touching people."

"Typically, we do not. However, in some cases it is necessary, such as when someone needs assistance and touch is required. You needed assistance."

"Well, thank you. I really appreciate what you did. Still can't get over how much it helped."

"Then we should continue with regular sessions, at least three times a week for one hour. It will help with your recovery and help you sleep. But, you must also promise to do the physical therapy that Dr. Phlox has prescribed for you, as well as the psychological treatment he has recommended. Consider it a challenge. I challenge you to try."

"I told you T'Pol," I can't do it, especially the psych stuff. I- I just wanna go home, and put this behind me. I guess I wasn't cut out for space exploration after all." T'Pol rose and faced Trip.

"The Commander Tucker I know would never back down from a challenge, especially from me. You say that you want to go home when we both know that that is not true. Being the Chief Engineer of this vessel is your life, it means everything to you. I am just surprised that you would let the barbaric, sadistic Lisyrians take it away from you."

"You don't understand T'Pol, no one does. It's just not that simple, and it's not easy dealing with all this. I'm not the same person I was before this happened. What they did to me changed me," he pleaded. "Have you ever had a life changing experience?''

"Yes," she said as she turned and headed toward the door. "However, while I understand having a life changing experience, I do not believe that the Lisyrians should be allowed to dictate to you what that change entails. If that is so, then they have won… Good night Commander."

Trip wanted to say something, but before he could think of anything, she was gone. The massage she had given him had been so unexpected and nice, really nice, for several reasons. He was almost asleep by the time she had finished, but now he was wide awake again, thinking about everything she had said.

To be honest, Trip really didn't want to go home and give up on life. He wanted to get better, to be well again, to be whole. But how? Phlox had talked to him about starting physical therapy, and about psycho therapy with a Starfleet psychiatrist, and that was par for the course, because he was certainly psycho. '_God I have got to quit thinking like that'_, he thought.

Captain Archer had told him that it would take about eight weeks to get home, then they would be on leave for another three months before shipping out again. Trip thought perhaps he should begin the treatment Phlox recommended, then continue once they were home. What did he have to lose? Perhaps T'Pol was right. Yes, his experience with the Lisyrians had changed him, but why did they

have to dictate what he changed into? He knew he couldn't go back to being the same Trip he used to be, but why did he have to be the broken, sick, damaged, messed up Trip his captors had left in his place? Perhaps he would accept T'Pol's challenge after all. Perhaps he would accept the challenge from himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Four

The day after his conversation with T'Pol, Trip started physical therapy to rehab his body. He was serious about it too. He worked out with Malcolm first, who was both surprised and impressed with Trip's resolve to get better and stronger. He pushed through the pain and did the exercises the doctor recommended. Sometimes it hurt so much he found himself on the brink of tears. That concerned Malcolm and Captain Archer as well as Travis and Hoshi. But Trip did not waiver.

One Week Later.

Trip sat on the exercise machine holding the handle bars that pushed in an upward motion and then inward and out again. It was designed to strengthen the back. Malcolm stood next to the machine keeping time.

"Again," Malcolm said. "Take your time and watch your breathing. Go!"

Trip pushed the handle bars up, then back down, in, then out as Malcolm counted. They repeated this sequence several times. "Seven, eight, nine, ten," Malcolm counted. "Stop. Okay, that was great work Mr. Tucker, let's take a break." Trip gasped out loud as he eased the handle bars back in position.

"Let's take a break?" He frowned at Malcolm. "Seems to me _I'm _the only one working here."

"And doing a fine job of it too," Malcolm smiled.

"I could actually go a couple sets more," Trip responded.

"I don't doubt that, but I don't want you to overdo it. Wouldn't want to defeat the purpose of the workout by you getting reinjured," Malcolm stated as he threw Trip a bottle of water. He took it, opened it and gulped the water down. He noticed Malcolm watching him as if he was trying to figure something out.

"Okay," Trip finally said. "You get once chance and this is it; one time only."

"What?" Malcolm asked. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you wanna ask me…about…about what happened to me on that alien ship all those weeks I was gone."

"I asked you before if you wanted to talk about it, and you shut me down pretty quickly. I backed off and I wasn't going ask again."

"I know. You've really respected my wishes, and not pushed the issue. I appreciate that. But, you've been a good friend Mal…you've been real understandin' and patient with me. You deserve to know, so go ahead ask me, anything you want." Malcolm considered this for a moment. He didn't want to upset Trip, but he was dying to know, he had to know.

"What happened that day in Engineering? What caused it…what made you lose it like that?" Trip looked down at the floor, then at Malcolm.

"We were talking about movie night. You made a comment about a certain member of the crew…that she was…the best looking female among the women on the ship."

"Yeah, I said T'Pol was beautiful," Malcolm said frowning. "Is that it? Is that what set you off, how?"

"It wasn't what you said, it was the way you said it. Y-you called her…"

"The beautiful one amongst women," Malcolm interrupted. "I don't understand."

"That's what they called me, on their ship… "Beautiful One"… that became my freaking name! When I heard you say it, all of a sudden, I was back there, and I could hear them callin' me that god-forsaken name!"

"Oh no!" Malcolm replied. "I'm sorry Trip, I'm really so sorry!"

"It's alright Mal, you didn't know, I didn't even know, no one could have. Phlox said with this PTSD that there are gonna be things that's gonna trigger it, and I'm gonna have these flash backs. That's what happened that day in engineerin'."

"Is there anything that can be done?"

"Not much, avoid certain stressors…take my meds…just try to stay calm, try to focus if I feel myself fallin' back."

"Should we be having this conversation?"

"He said talking about it could help too." There were a few minutes of silence. "They had never seen a human before," Trip continued. "Apparently their home world is hundreds of light years away, took 'em months to get to this area of space. They were big ugly sons of bitches, looked like eight feet tall humans, with the face of a lion. They had come across the Nausicaans, Klingons and Orions; you know, a few other groups of big ugly sons of bitches."

"I get taken while we were on Sorazon, along with all those other Sorazonians, who are also pretty big and a little unattractive too. Then along comes Trip. Everybody's got a foot or two on me, and apparently they've never seen anyone that wasn't covered with hair, sporting a lot of teeth or fangs, and with eye color other than brown or black." Trip hesitated for a moment.

"You know you don't have to do this," Malcolm said.

"Hey, I'm on a roll, so you better let me do it now, cause I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk about this again," Trip replied. Malcolm nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Anyway, these… friggin' beast, can't decide whether to skin me and eat me or to … have their way with me. So, their…C-Captain," Trip shuddered at the thought of him. "He decide that they won't do either, cause he thinks I'm… pretty. Then he makes me his personal servant, his play thing. Put this collar on my neck and led me around like an animal; kept me in a cage at night.

I had to serve him and his bridge crew, their meals, and… other stuff too. Had to…entertain them…parade around in a… a loin cloth. They'd do things to me to see how much …pain I could take, … to see how long it would take me to …pass out… or scream and cry! It was funny to 'em, they'd laugh and cheer when I broke down. I was their show." There was a long pause, and Malcolm wondered if he should let this go on. "Sometimes he would make me sleep with him…" Malcolm looked horrified as Trip spoke.

"It wasn't like that," Trip said knowing what Malcolm was thinking. "He never touched me like that…just wanted to me stay in his quarters on the floor…or sleep in his bed… like some kind of pet… I was his dog Malcolm," Trip said with an edge in his voice. After a few moments, he continued.

"It was terrifying cause I never knew what he was gonna do. He'd beat me, burn me…c-ut me… hang me upside down…d-drug me… hold me under water, drown me, then…revive me. When he was done abusing me and seeing me cry or shaking with fear, he'd rub my head, m-my face…my back, get all soft and cuddly with me… t-tell me how special I was. It was freakin' sick!" Trip's hands shook as he ran them across his face. Malcolm grimaced.

"He liked hurting me… they all did…that's what they did, they hurt people… it thrilled them…they got off on other p-people's… s-suffering. H-he would… he…he…" Trip had begun to tremble and his eyes started to water.

"That's enough," Malcolm said rising from where he was sitting in front of Trip listening to his horrendous tale. He could hardly stomach it, but didn't dare get sick in front of Trip. "You don't have to talk about this anymore, not today. C'mon, let's get you back to your quarters. You should get a hot shower and rest." Trip nodded.

Malcolm made sure Trip was okay and that he wasn't going to have another episode before he left him alone. Once he was inside his own quarters he sat hard on his bunk and folded his arms around himself. He shuddered as he thought about the things his friend had shared with him, the horrible things he had endured. Malcolm decided within himself that he would do everything he could to help his friend recover, and that nothing like that ever happened to him again, nor to any other member of the crew.

That Night.

Trip was hanging upside down in a large cooler with the rest of the meat. He wasn't even shivering anymore from the cold. He was numb, but his head felt as if his brains would burst out of him any moment. He was also having trouble breathing. Perhaps this was the moment he had been waiting for. He was going to die. Yes, this was it, because all of a sudden he could see himself back on Enterprise with his crew mates and his friends.

He could see himself in the Captain's mess or in Jon's quarters watching a water polo match. He could see himself sitting with Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis having dinner or playing a game. He could see himself arguing with T'Pol.

Then he saw his mother, his father and his three siblings back in Florida at his childhood home. He could see the beach and almost smell the salt water and feel the early morning breeze on his face. He was dying, and he was glad.

Suddenly, he heard loud voices. Someone was arguing, about him!

"You have gone too far," the female voice said. "We may not be able to save him this time!" It was Vendria, the physician.

"Well you had better find a way!" Klegg ordered. "I want him well and back the way he was!"

"What good is it to continue to restore his health if you keep abusing him? Why don't you go ahead and kill him and get it over with!" Suddenly Klegg grabbed her around the throat.

"You _will_ save his life! He is not like any creature I have ever owned…I care deeply for him. You know this. He has to live…he is very special to me, I love him!"

"Love?!" Vendria said incredulously. "You have no concept of love! Love does not involve hurting someone, over and over again, almost to the point of death! Can't you see that Master Klegg? Can't you understand that even a little bit? What you are doing to him is not by any stretch of the imagination, love, in any form. He is a sentient being, he is called a _human, _he is…"

"You forget yourself woman!" he shouted, then struck her with a back hand, hurdling her to the floor. "He is mine! He is my property, and he will be whatever I want him to be, and I will do whatever it is that I chose to do to him! Now, cut him down!" he jestered to the other female medics, Kaatia and Malvek. They hurried and cut Trip down easing him down slowly, then carried him away.

"He had better survive," Klegg growled. "And he had still better be beautiful. If not, it will be you hanging up there in his place." He then kicked Vendria on the floor where she had fallen before he left. She shuddered in pain for a few moments then pushed herself up from the floor. She had to get to Trip. Not because she was afraid of Klegg's threats, but because Trip needed her. Because over the last few weeks that he had been there, enduring this torture, she had treated his injuries, cared for him on a weekly basis, spoken with him about many things and, moreover, she had become his friend.

Infirmary, Lisyrian Ship.

"Doctor," Malvek said. "He's coming to." Vendria moved over to the bed where her patient lay.

"Trip," she whispered to him as he struggled with consciousness. Over the last few weeks she and her assistants had treated him multiple times after he had been hurt at Klegg's hands. She had also learned that he hated being called "Beautiful One," so she and her assistants called him Trip when no one else was around.

"Trip, it is I, Vendria. You are safe for now, please come back to us." Trip blinked his eyes and slowly began to open them. When he realized where he was his eyes welled with tears.

"There, there, now," Vendria said stroking his hair. "Please don't. I am sorry, so, so sorry for your suffering. But, you know that I could not let you d-die…" she choked out.

Kaatia moved over to the bed and ran a scanner over Trip. She closed her eyes and lowered her head for a moment. "Hypothermia. Broken ribs, again! Concussion, again! Dislocated shoulder…"

"He cannot endure much more of this," Malvek said as she prepared the chamber to warm his body. "His fragile body was not designed to endure this kind of treatment. Vendria, what are we going to do? Continue to witness this… this torture? Continue to do nothing?"

"Let us treat his hypothermia, then we will deal with the broken bones…"

"Vendria!" Kaatia interrupted.

"You know there is nothing more we can do!"

"He wants to die," Malvek replied.

"And if he dies, then we all die," Vendria said. "What of our children if we die? What of the revolution at home? There are too many others fighting to end this way of life. We are making progress, we cannot give up. And, we cannot let him die. If he dies, so does any hope we have of escaping."

"We will never see home again!" Malvek said. "In the meantime, we see this living, breathing, sentient being, a kind and intelligent individual, treated like a mindless beast!"

"Stop it," Trip finally spoke up in a weak voice. "P-please… don't argue because of me. Don't… want anyone to die… b-because of me."

"Trip, we are sorry. We did not mean to upset you," Kaatia said. "But this suffering you are enduring is taking its toll on your body and your mind…on us as well."

"Then, you gotta… patch me up…again. G-Get me… get me, well enough so I can keep workin'… on that b-busted up…shuttle craft. Only c-chance…we got," then he lost consciousness again.

Back on Enterprise.

"Commander, listen to me. You do not have to do this," Dr. Phlox tried to say in a calm voice. "Things will get better, I assure you. Give yourself some more time, it will get better."

"Trip!" Captain Archer said trying not to startle him, "Come out of there, you don't want to do this!" But, Trip did not answer. He just stood inside the airlock, having jammed the door, staring into space.

Malcolm and Anna Hess worked frantically on the bulkhead trying to get inside of the airlock, while Phlox and Captain Archer tried to keep Trip from depressing the control to the door leading out into space. Suddenly T'Pol appeared.

"Trip, please don't do this," Archer pleaded. "You can get through this, you're stronger than this. We're going to help you, we are all here to help you." Trip still had not spoken to them nor acknowledged their presence. He just stared into outer space, his hand hovering over the lock to the outer doors.

"Commander Tucker!" T'Pol shouted in a very authoritative voice. "Stand down, now!" Trip jumped as if startled. He looked around, then turned slowly and looked out into the hallway where Phlox and Archer stood. It was if he was just realizing where he was. He slid to the floor as the door slid opened. They grabbed him and pulled him out quickly. Everyone let out long sighs of relief and looked at one another.

"Get him to sick bay," Archer said.

Sick Bay.

"I'm telling you Capt'n, I don't remember how I got in that air lock. I don't even remember leaving my quarters," Trip said as he sat on a bio-bed.

"So you're telling me that you weren't trying to kill yourself?" Jon asked.

"I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it since I've been back. Thought about it a lot…almost every day," he said lowering his head. "But, I've never acted on anything."

"Trip, we were all there, we saw it. We thought you were going to blow yourself out of that airlock any minute." Malcolm and T'Pol quietly listened from across the room.

"I don't know what I was gonna do," Trip replied bewildered. "I don't even know what I was doing in there. I said I've thought about doing it, b-but I don't want to die."

"I wish I could believe that Commander," Phlox said. "While I appreciate your efforts in trying to regain your physical health, you are not getting any better mentally."

"I want to," Trip said in a soft voice. "I was willing to try that purging process. All I want to do is forget."

"But you know now that that is not possible Commander," T'Pol spoke up. "Dr. Yuris believes that it is not a suitable procedure for a human. You could suffer permanent brain damage."

"Anything would be better than this," Trip responded.

"You're not doing it!" Archer said. Trip only looked down.

"What now?" he asked Archer, then looked a Phlox. They looked at one another.

"I am sorry Commander," Phlox replied, "but I am going to have to insist on you staying here in sick bay and, uh, having someone be with you at all times and serve as a, well an escort of sorts."

"You're putting me on suicide watch," Trip said. "I'm not going to do anything, I promise."

"I'm afraid that's not good enough Trip", Archer said. "I can't risk something like this happening again."

"What am I supposed to do sitting around in sick bay all day?" Trip asked.

"Couldn't you release him to his quarters?" Archer asked. "I can assign around the clock monitoring. He could work from there."

"I suppose so," Phlox sighed.

"For how long?" Trip asked Phlox.

"Until I am certain you are no longer a danger to yourself. Until then, you will be accompanied by someone at all times."

"Malcolm," Archer said turning to the security officer.

"Yes Sir," Malcolm responded moving closer.

"Set it up." He then looked back at Trip, then turned and left sick bay.

Malcolm arranged for Travis, Hoshi, he and T'Pol to sit with Trip at various times. When they weren't available, a couple of Phlox's medics did it. The Captain even took a turn. After about a week of being baby sat, Trip realized that he was going to have to talk about his ordeal if he was ever going to be able to be free again. He was so sick of the hovering, of people patronizing him and treating him like glass.

He hadn't wanted to talk to a psychiatrist, but in order to get rid of his shadows, he let Phlox set him up with a Starfleet therapist via telecom. He submitted to a full psych evaluation and work up, and after a few days, was relieved from around the clock monitoring, but still had to check in with Phlox three times a day. He didn't want to talk about his ordeal, but he did it, three times a week. He hated it and a few times he ended up in sick bay on a bio-bed afterwards, but he did not quit. He wanted to sometimes, but he didn't.

By the time they were ready for shore leave, Trip seemed better, but he was still not fully healed, nor was he the same person he used to be. The old Trip was funny, good-natured, loved life, people, valued friendship, truth and justice in the United Earth way. But, this Trip was different. He rarely smiled, was jumpy, closed off and vacant.

Phlox had even allowed him to go back on duty, and he did his job superbly, very efficiently and as brilliant as ever. He also occasionally attended a movie, ate with the Captain and his Vulcan Science Officer a couple of times a week, and worked out with Malcolm and the others. He chatted with Travis and Hoshi occasionally and was friendly to everyone. But, there was something about him, something was missing. There was a dullness behind his eyes and a dark aura around him. Yes, something was definitely missing; it was his spirit.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Five

Eight Weeks Later.

Back on Earth, Trip saw his family for about five days when he returned home, but was so different, far away and closed off, that they knew something was wrong with him. His mother thought he had been taken over by an alien, and his father just thought he was crazy.

Charles Tucker II watched his youngest son running on the beach. It was early, around 6:00 am. Trip had always been an early riser, but never a runner. Now here he was running 10-12 miles every day. He was also eating right, only grilled chicken and fish, fruits and vegetables, but none of his favorite things. If that was odd, he practically got no sleep, and when he did, he had woke up everybody in the house several times screaming.

Sometimes he sat on the back porch and stared into space for hours. He refused to see any of his other relatives and wanted no part of a big family gathering, so he saw no one other than his brother Danny and his sisters Lizzy and Jenna. But, they too thought Trip was strange. After his run, he came back to the house drenched with sweat.

"Mornin' Dad," he said as he came in and headed for the refrigerator for water.

"Mornin' son," Charles replied. "Still can't get over the fact that you've become a runner. I mean, I know you had to be physically fit to be in Starfleet, but this is different. You seem driven."

"I am," Trip said between gulps of water. Charles stared at him for a few moments before leaving the room. He sat in the adjacent room pretending to watch a news screen, but he was watching Trip. He saw him retrieve a small bag hidden behind some items in a cabinet. Charles watched Trip as he popped something into his mouth before tossing several small bottles back the bag and slipping them back into their hiding place.

"Been meaning to ask you, what's all that crap you're taking?" he asked as Trip passed through the room. Trip stopped and looked at his father suspiciously.

"It's nothing, supplements."

"Trip, c'mon son, it's me, Dad. I've seen your little stash. I know what Seroquel is and what it's for. I also know what Anafranil and Depakote is too. What the hell is the matter with you?"

"Dad, I can't believe you're spying on me," Trip snapped.

"Believe it," Charles said unapologetically.

"Well if you know what my meds are and what they're for, then why are you askin?"

"Cause I want you to tell me. Look, I know you went missing for a few weeks a couple of months ago, Jon told us. We were worried sick. We were so relieved when they found you. I know they did somethin' to you…"

"Well if you know Dad, again I ask, why are you askin' me about it?"

"Cause you've changed. You seem so far away, so troubled. I just wanna help, if I can; if you let me. Your mother really thinks the worst."

"There is no way in the world she could possibly think or even imagine the worst," Trip replied oddly. "I'm dealing with it. There's nothing you can do, there's nothing anyone can do, okay! So why don't you give it a rest! I'm doing the best I can! I'm seeking professional help, exercising, trying to eat right! Takin' those lousy pills everyday! I'm trying to get better! And I could do without you drilling me and questionin' me! So just stop it with the third degree! Can you just give it a friggin' rest!"

"Charles Anthony Tucker, III!" Ellen Tucker called out as she entered the room. Trip straightened up like he did when he was a little boy. Whenever his mother called him by his whole name he knew he was in deep trouble. "Why are you yelling at your father at 6:30 in the morning?"

"Sorry Mom," Trip said looking down. "Sorry Dad."

"Trip, what's the matter?" Ellen pleaded. "Honey, we love you and we just want you to be alright."

"I know mom, and I'm working on it, I swear I'm working on it. But I gotta do it my way, so please, just give me some time. You all keep tellin' me I've changed, well you're right I have, and I may not ever be the person I used to be. I've seen too much, been through too much. But I am trying. So can you please just give me some space and some time?

Ellen and Charles looked at one another. They both nodded at their son. "Great," he said. "I'm gonna go have a shower now, and then I'm going for another run."

"Another run!" Charles said. "You just ran 10-12 miles, and you're gonna go for another one, after you take a shower no less?!" Trip did not answer. He just shot up the stairs and disappeared. His parents looked at one another again.

Later that Day.

Lizzy and Jenna arrived together. Danny would join them shortly. They were all gathering to have dinner together. It was supposed to be a barbeque, but Trip had informed his family that he wasn't going to eat any pork or beef. Everyone was stunned. He also refused his mother's pecan pie. She knew he was sick then.

"Where is he?" Jenna asked.

"He's up there in his room."

"Doing what?" Lizzy asked.

"Probably lifting those weights. That's all he's been doing, running and lifting weights," Ellen replied.

"Is he sleeping any better?" Jenna asked.

"Well, he didn't wake up screaming last night if that's what you mean," Ellen said. "He just walked the floor half the night, up and down the stairs."

"Mom, what are we gonna do about this?" Jenna asked. "This is not the Trip Tucker we know." Ellen beckoned for her two daughters to come in closer.

"Girls, I think while he was gallivanting around in space…that he may have been taken over by… aliens. I don't even think that's my boy up there at all."

"Oh mom, don't be silly," Lizzy said. "Look, it's Trip. Sure he's acting a little strange, but he's still our Trip. Maybe it's a woman. Maybe he's in love."

"Hadn't thought of that," Jenna said. "But that still wouldn't explain his behavior."

"Explain what?" Charles asked as he entered through the back door where his grill was going.

"Hi daddy," the girls said together, and each moved over to kiss their father.

"We were just speculating about what was going on with Trip," Jenna said. "Lizzy thinks it's a woman."

"Well Danny said when he came over to his place, he wouldn't drink a beer, didn't wanna watch a movie, wouldn't even talk," Charles replied, "just sat on the couch and stared up at the ceiling for two hours. Now, does that sound like our Trip? Like someone who's in love?"

"It's alien possession I tell you," Ellen added.

"Oh mom," Lizzy said. Just then a hover car pulled up. It was Danny. Out jumped a large brown Labrador Retriever who bounded onto the front porch.

"Oh look," Jenna said, "Danny brought Sam." She rushed to the door and let the dog in. She barked and jumped on Jenna who rubbed her back and scratched her behind her ears.

"He told me he was bringing the rest of the puppies by to see if anybody wanted one before he gave them all away," Charles said.

"Hello Tuckers!" Danny greeted his family carrying a box. They were all very excited to see three little light brown labs playing and jumping on top of one another. "Where is he?" Danny asked.

"He's up stairs," Charles said.

"How's he acting today?"

"Still a little off," Charles replied. "You know I caught him taking a whole bunch of medicine; I sneaked a peak…antidepressants, high blood pressure meds, anti-anxiety meds."

"Yeah?" Danny said. "Well, that's a good thing isn't it? I mean if he's sick, he's doing something about it, right?'

"I wanna know what's got him so messed up", Lizzy said. "I mean, we all know he was kidnapped. Just what did those aliens do to my brother?"

"If that's even your brother," Ellen said. They all sighed and moaned over the alien possession theory.

"You know what, that's it!" Lizzy said. "That's Trip up there, our Trip, and all we've done is talk about him behind his back for the last few days. I'm going up there and bring him down." With that Lizzy bound up the stairs. They all waited silently, listening for any sign of trouble. They didn't know if they would hear Trip yelling at Lizzy, and her running down the stairs or something being thrown across the room at her. Then, suddenly they heard laughter. This went on for several minutes and finally the two came down the stairs arm in arm.

"Hey Danny," Trip said. "Didn't know you were here. "Hey Jenna, you either."

"Hey little brother," Jenna drawled in the famous Tucker drawl and went over to hug and kiss her brother. "You feeling better today?"

"Better than what?" Trip asked.

"Well better than the last few days. Mom and Dad said you've been havin' trouble sleepin'." Trip pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips looking at his parents.

"What've you been tellin' everybody?" he asked incredulously.

"That you been waking up screamin'," his Dad answered unapologetically. "And not acting like yourself, running 20 miles a day and takin' 20 pills a day to boot!"

"Charles!" Ellen interrupted. "Please don't fight with Trip, please. Dinner is almost ready, can we just all sit down and have a visit before we eat?" Trip glared at his father, but Charles did not waiver. He just stood there with his arms folded glaring right back. Danny tried to break the silence and ease the tension when Sam came bounding back into the room.

"Oh Trip, I almost forgot," he said. "Sam had her puppies and I wanted everybody to see 'em, in case you all wanted one. There's only three left, but you told us that Captain Archer has a dog on the ship, so I thought, what the heck…" but Trip had spaced out. He didn't hear a word Danny had said. He just stared at the box of tiny dogs Danny had thrust into his arms. After a few minutes of staring at the box he began to shake violently, he dropped the puppies and started screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Get 'em away, get 'em away from me! No! No! Noooooo! Oh god, don't bring those things near me! Get'em away! Get 'em away from me! Noooooo!"

Trip's father ended up calling mobile crisis as they were unable to calm Trip down for some time. Then he became frozen, unable to move off the floor where he had crawled up under the table trying to get away from the puppies. He would not let anyone in his family other than Lizzy touch him. She had crawled under the table with him and was cradling his head in her lap as he sobbed.

Mobile Crisis finally arrived. "Where is he?" one of the medics asked as the other one followed close behind with a med kit.

"In there," Charles pointed to the dining room. "He finally stopped screaming but I can't get him to come from under the table, and… he can't seem to stop cryin'." The paramedics nodded and followed Charles into the dining room. One of the paramedics bent down to where he was still holding onto Lizzy as if for dear life.

"Hello Trip," he said, using the name Charles had advised him to use. "I'm Tony and this guy behind me is Rodney." Trip did not respond. Tony then gestured for Lizzy to move away from Trip. She shook her head no.

"Ms. Tucker, you've got to move away from him so we can get closer to him. We may be able to get him to come from under there on his own." Lizzy shook her head no again, through tears.

"Lizzy," Charles spoke up, "let these men do their job. It's out of our hands now, so c'mon," he said reaching his hand out to her. She took her father's hand slowly and tried to move, but Trip grabbed her around her waist and held onto her tightly. This made Lizzy break down in a sob.

"Trip," the paramedic tried again. "Please come on out. It's safe out here, your family is here and they're very concerned about you." Trip looked up from where he had buried his face against Lizzy's shoulder and shook his head no.

"We're not gonna let anyone or anything hurt you," the paramedic promised. "So why don't you come on out?"

"NO!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry Sir," the medic said to Charles, "but we're going to have to take him by force."

"Do what you have to," Charles replied. Then, the medics crawled under and pulled Trip from under the table, as he screamed.

"Have mercy!" he yelled. "Mercy! It won't happen again, I swear it! Please don't punish me! …. I can't take anymore! Help! Help! Help!"

Trip's mother and sister cried as the paramedics strapped him down to the gurney. They transported him to the local hospital where he was admitted for stabilization. The family was told that he would be transported to Starfleet Medical in San Francisco the next day. Everyone had stayed at the hospital over-night except Charles. He had one very important phone call to make and it couldn't wait.

Jon was surprised to see Charles Tucker II on his view screen, especially at 1:40 am. "Mr. Tucker, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"If I woke you too bad," Charles spat out. "Jon, we need to talk and I want the truth."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jon said wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"It's Trip, he's in the hospital." That woke Jon up.

"In the hospital! What happened?'

"That's what I wanna know! He shows up here five days ago, acting really weird. He's doing things I've never seen him do before. He's not talkin', not socializin', won't see the rest of his family. He's doing nothing but runnin' for miles and miles and lifting weights day in and day out; he's eating differently, taking a lot of damned pills, staring off into space or up at the ceiling for hours, waking up screamin' at night!" Jon shifted uncomfortably on his bed. It sounded like Trip was regressing instead of getting better like he was before he left Enterprise.

"Mr. Tucker, I'm so sorry to hear that. I'll catch a shuttle out first thing in the morning…"

"No need, no need. Hospital already contacted Starfleet. They're having him transported to their medical facility tomorrow. Jon, he freaked out, totally lost it… over some puppies; three little puppies. He was scared to death, no_, terrified_, of three puppies! I have never seen anything like it in my life! The paramedics had to drag him out of here strapped down like an animal."

"Oh no," Jon moaned putting his hand over his eyes.

"What has happened to my boy Jon? I want to know, I have a right to know, and to hell with Starfleet and their regulations! I wanna know how to help my son!"

Mr. Tucker, please sit down," Jon conceded. "I will tell you everything I know, and I'm sorry Sir, but it's not pretty. I don't have all the details, but I will tell you what I've seen and what his psychiatrists have reported to me."

Jon went on to tell how Trip was kidnapped by the Lisyrians, that part Charles already knew. What he didn't know was about the slavery, the beatings and the gruesome details of the torture and the executions of others that Trip witnessed. He told him about the whips and the chains, that the species were sadists. He told him that they were also cannibals and about the dog-like creatures Trip was forced to serve at the banquet. About how they named him the "Beautiful One" and forced him to parade around in a loin cloth.

When Jon was finished telling the tale, Charles Tucker was stunned, and doing everything he could to keep from breaking down. He thanked the Captain for his honesty, hung up, then made a mad dash for the bathroom and threw up. Then he sobbed uncontrollably for a few minutes. No wonder his boy was so different; no wonder he was so not himself… no wonder he was so crazy! Anybody would be.

Charles gathered himself and headed back to the hospital. He would not share this information with the rest of the family. He just wanted nothing more now than to get to Trip. He had to sit with him, to hold his hand, to protect him, to be with him and assure him that everything would be alright. But Charles was not sure that it would be alright, ever again.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six

Jonathan Archer walked down the hallway of Starfleet's Medical facility to its psychiatric ward looking for room 216. Upon arrival there he hesitated before entering the room. He thought about when he and Trip had first met over ten years ago. Trip was so young and full of life. He had an enthusiasm and energy about him that was contagious. Over the last few years on Enterprise they had been through a lot and Trip had been an irreplaceable asset.

Jon thought about how after encountering several hostile species, Trip had insisted on refitting the ship with phase cannons rather than going back to Earth to have it done, and proceeded, along with Malcolm, to get it done despite Jon's doubts. He thought about how Trip had found a way to communicate with the senior officers when the Scullion had taken over the ship, and was able to devise a plan to retake Enterprise.

Jon had to smile when he thought about how Starfleet's first warp five engine became a reality all because a hot-headed, loud-mouth junior officer with dirty blonde hair had helped Jon steal the NX Beta to make that first flight over ten years ago. Trip had almost gotten into trouble with Admiral Forrest for shooting off his mouth about the sufficiency of Henry Archer's engine and putting the Vulcans in their place about their lack of support for Earth's warp five project.

The NX Beta incident had forged their friendship all those years ago. _'How_ _in the hell'_, Archer thought _'did we end up here?' _as he looked around and tried to process the fact that he was standing outside his best friend's room, on the psych ward at Starfleet Medical. He knocked on the door that was half opened. He slipped inside the room, not sure if he had been invited to do so or not.

"Hey buddy," he said as he looked over at the young engineer sitting at a table working on some type of puzzle.

"Jon," Trip said looking up. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to check on you. Did you think I wouldn't come?"

"Kinda hoped you wouldn't," Trip said softly looking down. "Guess you talked to my Dad?"

"He's worried about you Trip, so are your friends on Enterprise."

"Would you do me a favor Jon, and not mention what happened at my folks' place?" Trip looked up at his friend waiting for his response. He looked very tired to Jon, sad and fragile.

"You got it," Jon said. "How are you?" Trip shifted in his seat and looked away as Jon joined him at the table, sitting across from him.

"I'ma… I'm… aw hell Jon, I'm screwed up. I had a melt down at my folks', in front of everybody. So now they all know… that, that I'm… a freaking basket case!"

"Trip, before you left the ship you were doing so well. At times, you even seemed like…like your old self. What happened?"

"Guess it's this damned PTSD. I never know what's gonna trigger it. I don't have any warning when somethin's gonna freak me out. Everybody keeps tellin' me to avoid certain stressors, but who knew that three…" his voice trailed off as he bit down on his lower lip.

"It's okay Trip," Jon said, "you just keeping getting better."

"I don't know, maybe I'm kiddin' myself. Maybe this is it for me. This is just so damned hard. You know when we went out there I never imagined somethin' like what happened to me could ever happen, to anyone. I mean I wasn't stupid enough to think that space exploration wasn't potentially dangerous, that there wouldn't be some hostile species out there. I just never thought practically everybody we met would hate us, be tryin' to hurt us."

"Not everyone," Jon reminded Trip. "What about Lianna and her father, the folks from Krios Prime, and the Xyrillians? Can't forget the Xyrillians."

"No, lets do," Trip replied, not wanting to approach that subject at a time like this. There were a few minutes of silence.

"Capt'n, I think you should re-consider acceptin' my resignation," Trip said softly.

"I can't do that Trip," Archer replied.

"Listen Capt'n, I appreciate what you've been trying to do for me, and I thank you for believing in me and trying to help me get my life back. But, it's not gonna work. I think we both know I'm finished. My folks want me to come home, but I just don't wanna be a burden or a liability to anyone. I've been thinking about taking a medical discharge, on …disability status."

"You're not disabled," Jon snapped. "This is a temporary setback, nothing more. Look Trip, I wouldn't presume to understand what you've been through. Hell I can barely stand to hear about it, let alone having to live through it. But there's a few things I know for sure, that this mission would never have happened without you; that I wouldn't want to continue it without you; that you're a tough son-of-a-bitch, and you are going to get through this! You're a fighter, and you're going to rise above it!"

"So no, I won't accept your resignation, Commander. I expect you to get better and to be ready to ship out when our leave is up. Is that clear?" Trip smiled a little and looked at his friend. He knew what Archer was trying to do, but it wasn't working.

"Aye Capt'n," is all Trip said. Jon nodded.

"Now show me how to work this apparatus you're working on here," Jon replied as Trip began to show him how the puzzle worked.

Over the next few days, Trip had visits from Malcolm, T'Pol, Hoshi, and Travis. Dr. Phlox had visited almost every day, as he still considered Trip to be his patient. They all had tried to encourage him and persuade him to keep fighting, to come back to the ship, that he could do it.

Trip hated remembering. He had been told over and over again by his doctors that fully recalling his memories of his experience on the Lisyrian ship was the key to his recovery.

One Week Later.

"And how are we today?" asked Dr. Sharon Houston, the Starfleet psychiatrist assigned to Trip, as she entered his room.

"I don't know how _we_ are," Trip replied, "but _I'm_ trying to hang in there. That's all I can do right now."

"Well that's a start," she smiled as she pulled up a chair to the table in the room. She beckoned for Trip to sit down across from her. He did so.

"You've been here for a week now, Trip, and I don't feel our sessions have been as productive I would have liked them to be. Do you want to get better?"

"Yes, of course I do. It's just that…that… it's so hard talkin' about it."

"But, you've done it. Everyday I've come in here and you have talked about your abduction. But, you get to a certain point, then you hit a wall. I want to try to break through that wall today."

"What do you mean, break through? What are you gonna do?'

"What is your greatest fear Trip, Houston asked abruptly.

"My greatest…fear?"

"Yes, we all have them. What is it that makes you afraid more than anything else?" Trip thought for a few moments. He knew well what his greatest fear was, but he couldn't verbalize it.

"Them," he said softly.

"Them?"

"You know who I mean."

"Why don't you tell me."

"I- I can't?"

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"Do you realize that you never call your captors by name? You refer to them as _them, _my captors, the ones that abducted me, and _Him."_

Trip did not respond, he just looked at his hands clasped together in front of him, resting on the table.

"Trip," Dr. Houston said as she looked squarely at him, "You need to say their name. What was the species that abducted you and tortured you called?" Trip was silent for a few moments. He had not said their name. He felt like if he said it that he would surely choke on it.

"They were Li…Lisy…L-Lisyrian," he forced out. It left a bitter taste in his throat.

"And you fear them?"

"Yes," Trip admitted.

"All of them?"

"Well, no, not exactly…maybe. There were a couple of medics, females, that took care of me whenever he went too far and really hurt me, which was every week. I ended up spending two or three days with them in the infirmary."

"And they were kind to you?"

"Yes."

"Who were they?" Again Trip hesitated. _They were kind to me,_ he thought. _I can say their names, they didn't hurt me. I can remember them._ Then he closed his eyes,

"They were… they…were called M-Malvek and Kaatia."

"Why is it so difficult to call them by name? You said they were kind to you?"

"I don't know. S-seems to make it feel more real…like it really happened; like it wasn't just a nightmare."

"Who else do you remember?"

"No one."

"Yes, you do. There was a doctor…"

"I don't remember."

"Yes, you do. Who was the doctor that treated you on that ship? Say her name"

"No!" Trip shouted rising from his chair.

"All of the reports indicate that there was a female Lisyrian physician, what was her name?"

"I-I don't know!"

"Yes you do, think. She was kind to you, she took care of you. She advocated for you!"

"I tell you I can't remember!" Trip cried out.

"She helped you didn't she? She tried to protect you from him didn't she?" the doctor said rising and approaching Trip. "Remember her, what was her name?'

Trip's face was contorted as if in pain from the memory. Suddenly, he could see her face. The kindness in her eyes and he remembered the gentleness of her touch. How could he have forgotten her? Why would he not want to remember her? "V-Ven…dria," Trip said slowly as tears begin to roll down his cheek.

"Why is it so difficult to remember her? You said she was kind to you, she took care of you. She tried to protect you."

"Because," Trip said slowly. "S-she sacrificed herself… s-so I could live, g-get the others out… said I was their only hope!" he cried. "And, he…he…killed her! He killed her! Oh God, he killed her!" He backed up against the wall like a caged animal, fear overtaking him.

"Who killed her? Who did this? Who killed Vendria?"

"H-he did… their Captain…"

"What Is His Name? Remember it! Say it! What is his name?"

"I can't! I can't do it! I don't want to remember!

"You must! Don't let him continue to torture you Trip! Say his name and take back the power he still has over you." Trip hesitated for a few moments. He gasped as if he could not breathe.

"K-Klegg!" Trip shouted. "Klegg! Master Klegg!" Trip then slid down the wall to the floor, sobbing.

"Tell me what happened," Dr. Houston said gently, bending down in front of him. "How did your back become broken? Tell me what Klegg did to you?"

Trip wiped his face on his sleeve. The he told her the story of how Vendria, Malvek and Kaatia had lied to Klegg each week, telling him how Tripp's recovery took longer each time, when in fact they were helping him by giving him access to a broken down shuttle pod. He would spend as many hours as he could repairing it. Then, they would sneak him back to the infirmary. When the shuttle was ready, the women, their children, along with ten other females and their children attempted to escape. But they had been discovered.

Klegg and two of his henchmen had gained access to the shuttle bay before Trip could launch the pod. He had dragged Trip out of it and beat him mercilessly. Then he had lifted him up and crashed his body over his massive knee. Trip lay on the floor like a rag doll, broken. Klegg had ordered Vendria out of the pod. He told her to take Trip to the infirmary and fix him, again. He and his men then walked away laughing.

Vendria walked slowly toward her friend. She looked down at him and scooped him in her arms. But, instead of taking him to the infirmary as ordered, she turned and ran toward the shuttle pod where the others still sat stunned. She tossed him inside and ordered the young pilot sitting in the pilot's seat to take off. Trip could still see her as Klegg and his men, hearing the shuttle power up, returned to the room. Just before the shuttle pod door was closed, Trip turned and looked into Vendria's eyes, they were leaking. Then she turned back toward Klegg and tried to fight him off. It took only one swing. The others watched in horror. Trip cried, wishing he had never seen it. Vendria was dead. She did not stand a chance. She had sacrificed herself for Trip, and the others.

"He…d-decap… decapitated her," Trip cried. "Just like that, he did it. Right in front of her kids. She was my friend, she helped me, t-took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. They fired at us, but we got away with minimal damage. I'd disabled their ship's engines so they couldn't pursue. It would take them days to fix 'em.

We sent out distress calls and wandered aimlessly for a few days, not having any idea where to go. I didn't know where Enterprise was, and they couldn't get back to their home world in a patched up shuttle pod. I couldn't feel anything, I couldn't walk, started getting delirious. After about three days, Enterprise found us. I was unconscious by then, near death."

"It was Kaatia and Malvek that told your Captain how to locate the Lisyrian ship," Dr. Houston said. "It's in the report. With the help of several others, Enterprise was able to rescue the other captives, at least some of them. The Lisyrian ship was destroyed, but many of the captives were beamed out before that happened from what I understand."

Trip put his face in his hands and sobbed. He was unable to get up from the floor. He was exhausted and his head was pounding. He had trouble breathing and his heart rate was accelerated. Dr. Houston had the physician come and examine and sedate him. She left him sleeping. She then contacted Dr. Phlox, Captain Archer, and Trip's father to inform them that he had made a major breakthrough. He was finally on the road to recovery.

Trip spent the next week at the Starfleet medical facility. While he had made a major breakthrough, he had decided not to return to Enterprise. His family supported his decision. He would inform Captain Archer once he was back home and settled. He knew Jon would try to talk him out of it, but figured that if he had already moved back home, it would be easier for Jon to accept his decision.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Seven

The day before he was discharged from the hospital, his father came to see him. Trip was expecting him to be there to pick him up and take him home to Florida the next day. But, for some reason Charles had come early.

"This is a surprise," Trip said to his father when he showed up at his room. "Wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I know. Thought I'd come a little early, thought maybe we could talk. Your mom is really looking forward to having you back home. She wants to take care of you." Trip smiled as he sat on the bed. "Your sisters are anxious to see you too, and glad you're moving back home. Danny feels terrible…"

"It's not his fault, I've told him that several times," Trip interrupted. "He didn't know. Anything can trigger a bad reaction, I'm just not sure what those things are," he said looking away.

"Son, I've got something to say to you," Charles said as he stiffened his back as if strengthening his resolve. Trip looked at him curiously. "And trust me when I tell you that this is not easy for me… You can't come home," Charles said. Trip was shocked. This was the last thing he expected his father to say.

"What?" Trip replied. "I can't come home?"

"What I mean is that you shouldn't come home. You're my son, and my home will always be your home, you are welcome there, but you shouldn't come, not now, not under these circumstances."

"Dad, I don't understand, I thought you wanted me to come home. That's all I've been hearing for the last two years; how much you hated me being out in space and how you thought it was too dangerous. In the last few weeks, since everything that's happened, you've practically begged me to come home. Now you tell me that I shouldn't come, that I can't come!"

"I know what I been sayin'," Charles replied. "But I thought about it, thought about it a lot, and I realize, it's not about me, or your mother, or anyone else. It's about you, and you've wanted to be out in space all your life. Before those bastards took you, you were happy and full of life. You loved it out there, and you were so damned good at what you were doing. Jon's told me, all your friends on the ship have told me, I was at your ceremony when you won those engineering awards. And I know you! You're good at every damned thing you do, always have been. Smart, efficient, diligent and damned hard workin!"

"Trip, you can't quit, not like this. You just can't give in to this thing. So that's why I'm tellin' you that you can't come home. If you do, you're never gonna leave again, and all that talent, all your hard work, will be wasted. No, you've gotta go back aboard Enterprise; you've gotta see this thing through. If not, you're gonna be lost forever." Charles then rose and started toward the door. Trip sat there in tears. He couldn't believe what his father was saying to him. Before Charles left he turned back for a moment.

"Almost forgot," he said and he reached into his jacket pocket. "I have something for you." He set a small box on Trip's table, smiled a small smile at his son, then turned and left. Trip did not move, he just sat there on the bed in the same spot and let the tears roll down his cheeks.

The next day, Charles did not return to pick Trip up when he was discharged so he returned to the Starfleet housing facility where he had been assigned a small apartment. He put his things away and came across the box his father had left for him. He had not even opened it.

He sat down on the sofa in the living area and stared at the box. He had no idea what was in it. He finally opened it. It was a statue of a bird, about five inches tall. It had very colorful feathers and blue eyes. When Trip pushed a small button, the bird's wings began to spread out wide, then slowly rise up in the air. On the placard where it rested, the inscription simply said "Rise Above." _Hadn't Jon said something very similar to him just a few days ago? _he thought.

Trip went to his computer console and began to try and find out what type of bird this creature was. Perhaps it would make sense to him as to why his father would give him a statue of a bird. He found several that looked very similar. He read:

"The Phoenix; in classical mythology, a unique bird that lived for five or

six centuries in the Arabian desert, after this time burning itself on a funeral

pyre and rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle; The Phoenix was, generally, believed to be colorful and vibrant; this was one aspect of the bird that made it stand out from all other birds. Some thought it had peacock-like coloring, and that its eyes were blue like sapphires; In modern times the Phoenix was a person or thing regarded as uniquely remarkable in some respect."

Trip looked at the figurine his father had given him, he read the description on his computer screen again, and he thought about what Jon had said to him. He clicked off the computer screen, set the figurine on his coffee table, took a long hot shower, and went to bed.

Sleep however, didn't come quickly. He kept thinking about everything that had happened to him in the last couple of weeks. He thought about his melt down at his parent's home, and the therapy session he had with Dr. Houston where his memories of his tormentor had fully returned. He thought about Vendria, and how she had saved his life; for what? He thought about the challenge T'Pol presented to him; the things Jon had said to him, but mostly the things his father had said to him.

Right then he made a decision, a big decision. But, if he was going to do this, he was really going to do it, no half-stepping. In addition, he resolved to do something that would ensure that nothing like this would ever happen to him again. He did not want to be a liability. It had long been a running joke about his penchant for getting into trouble on away missions, and having the record for sick bay visits. That would have to change. Could he do this? Could he take control of his life back and reinvent himself? Could he become a better Charles Anthony Tucker III? Could he find a way to live again?

The next day Trip went to the Starfleet training facility and resumed his workout regime and his plan for regaining his health and strength. He continued psychotherapy as well because he knew that if his plan was going to work that his head had to be on straight.

When he was strong enough, Trip began his next phase of reinventing himself. He did strength training, and continued to run for miles every day, testing his endurance. He took hours and hours of kick boxing, Jui jitsu and Vulcan martial arts classes as well. But, on this particular day, things were not going so great.

Trip fell to the floor again, nose and mouth bleeding.

"Get up!" his trainer said. Trip lay there on the gym floor a few more minutes, then slowly pushed himself up. He had wanted to learn Vulcan martial arts, but this was ridiculous. His trainer had to be the biggest Vulcan he had ever seen, about 6'4, 220 pounds of nothing but muscle, not to mention that Vulcans were already about twice as strong as humans anyway. And today, Trip was really getting his ass whipped.

"Commander," Vakai said. "You are going to need to learn to take a punch. It is well that you have learned blocking techniques, but you are going to be hit at some point. You cannot simply crumble and fall to the floor each time."

"Easy for you to say," Trip replied and resumed his stance.

"Incorrect," Vakai stated. "Must we go over this each time? Can you not retain anything I have taught you from one day to the next?"

"Hey! I'm tryin!" Trip shouted. Vakai simply raised his eyebrow and walked over to show Trip the correct stance.

"Now, once again." Vakai threw several punches which Trip blocked. But then, Vakai threw a kick at Trip's chest, connecting and throwing him backwards to the floor. Trip lay there. He had had the wind knocked out of him and was trying to catch his breath.

"Pathetic," the Vulcan said, glaring down at Trip. When he finally was able to get to his feet, Trip grabbed his shirt and began to walk toward the lockers.

"I told you, you were not suited for this training!" the Vulcan shouted at his back. "Do not bother to return tomorrow, you will never master the technique, few humans can." Trip stopped in his tracks. He could feel his anger rising up. He swirled around and faced Vakai.

"Well, I'm no ordinary human!" Trip shouted.

"Really!" Vakai taunted.

"Look, you smug son-of-a-bitch!" Trip shouted. "I'm paying you to teach me how to fight! Not to insult me and piss me off! Now I'm sick of it, and I'm not gonna listen to anymore of your arrogant garbage!"

"Unfortunately, Commander," the bigger man said, "there is very little you can do about it!" With that Trip attacked him. Vakai blocked most of Trip's blows, but he got a couple in. They were good hits too, making Vakai's nose bleed and leaving a small cut above his right eye. But a few moments later, Vakai easily put Trip on his back, and held him there. Trip struggled to get up for several minutes. When his trainer finally let him up, Trip let out a string of expletives, kicked a couple of chairs on the sideline and banged his fist against the wall. Vakai rolled his eyes.

"Commander," he said in a much softer tone. "You are correct, you are no ordinary human. I knew that the first day I met you. I have trained many officers and individuals in this technique and you have shown more determination and discipline than I have ever seen. For two weeks you have shown up here every day and endured my taunting and harshness with you, yet this is the first day you have had a breakdown."

"Whadda you mean?" Trip asked, wiping his face with his hands.

"Many of my students breakdown and attack me within the first three days of this training. Many do not return. You have shown remarkable restraint and resilience. I believe you have the skills to master this fighting technique."

"But, you just said I' didn't! As a matter of fact, you been saying a lot of crap that's not helpin', it's just pissing me off!"

"And do you think that your opponents, a hostile alien species, an assassin, or a warrior trained to kill since birth are going to say nice things about you while kicking your ass?" Trip had to raise his eyebrows at that. He knew that Vakai had surely been living on Earth too long, and had picked up some of their bad habits.

"Your opponents will be trying to harm you, possibly kill you. If you can be so easily shaken by insults, then that is a disadvantage. Just like the physical blows, you must learn to block it out. And the anger, you have it, plenty of it, you just don't know how to use it to your advantage."

Trip was curious now. "I don't follow," he said.

"You must learn to harness your anger, control it, compartmentalize it. Store it away for use at the appropriate time. When a situation arises, say your life is threatened, or perhaps a family member or colleague's life is endangered. Then you must reach in deep inside yourself and summons forth your anger and fury. Remember those who hurt you, see them, smell them, recall the pain. Then propel all of it onto your opponent and use it to dispatch him."

Trip sat there on the floor with his hands resting on his knees trying to process what Vakai was telling him. "As for the physical pain, you must also learn how to disconnect from it. You must not allow yourself to experience it during the fight. It's a matter of control and mental discipline. If you can master these two things, you can master the Vulcan martial art, only then." Vakai then arose from where he had been sitting in front of Trip. "Same time tomorrow," he said, reaching his hand out to Trip to help him up. "And Commander, come with your "game on."

From that day forward, Trip was never the same. He had come with his game on every day since then. He learned how to put Vakai on his back, because he discovered he was faster and more agile, and because he learned how to fight dirty. He used this to his advantage. Over the next few weeks he also learned to control his anger and disconnect from physical pain.

When everyone returned to the ship, Trip did not return with them. He had told Captain Archer that he wanted to stay aboard Enterprise after all, but wasn't quite ready, that he still had a lot of work to do. He did keep in touch with Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox as well as Malcolm, and they could see the positive change in him, that he was in fact better. Eventually, his family began to think he was okay too, changed, but not nearly as crazy, just half-crazy.

Trip stayed on Earth three more months, training and getting his head straight. Finally, he did something he never thought he would do. He went into the back alleys of San Francisco, and into dive bars. He talked to people he wouldn't usually talk to or even associate with, but he was looking for something, someone. When he found him, a rouge Starfleet Section 31 operative, he knew there was no turning back. He knew the old Trip Tucker was gone for good, because the old Trip Tucker would never, ever, have wanted to do what he was doing… learning how to kill.

Trip sat in a dive bar in San Francisco with his new _"friend."_ It was dark and dirty, and oh the smell! But Trip sat in the back of this establishment nursing a beer. He had been there for over three hours now, and he was getting restless.

"Just what the hell are we doing here?" Trip asked JC for the third time.

"I told you already, now learn to relax. This is observation 101, learning how to size up a room. Now, look around, tell me whadda ya see," the short, New Yorker with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow said to Trip.

"I see a $20.00 prostitute working the room. A guy that's five bottles short of a six pack, begging, with a military jacket; fly boy, or at least he coulda been at some point in his life. I see a busboy clearin' off tables, like he's been doing since we got here. See a couple over there look like they're about to get it on right out here in front of all of us. There's the bar tender, a couple of waitresses, and a guy reading a padd."

"That all you see?" JC asked looking at Trip warily.

"Well the scene hasn't changed much since we got here."

"Oh? Look CT, I know you're a novice at this. But, if you're gonna uh, excel, in this line of work, you got learn a few tricks. Like, learning how to be aware of your surroundings, knowing how to see what others don't see, and how to size up the situation in just a few minutes."

"What? Trip asked.

"Okay, okay, watch this. See your $20.00 prostitute over there?" Trip nodded. "Now look at her hands and her feet. She's got a $100.00 french manicure and a pedicure. Now what $20.00 whore have you ever seen that pays that much attention to her nails? A high classes call girl maybe, but not in this dive." Trip frowned, considering this.

"Now look at your fly boy over there. Been begging for change all night, right? Now look at his hair. The top is all mussed up, but check out the edges, all tapered down, side burns trimmed. It's a professional cut."

"And what about your hard working bus boy? Sure, he's making so much money in this dump that he can afford to wear $200.00 wing tips while he's cleaning off tables. No bus boy's gonna be working in shoes like that I tell ya."

"Lastly, your guy in the corner with the padd. He's been in and outta here for the last three hours. He's looking for somebody, or waiting for something to go down."

Trip was amazed. He had not noticed any of those things. "How do you do that?" he asked his companion.

"Practice, and lots of it. That why for the next few days, anywhere you go, everywhere you go, you gonna be looking, watching, sizing up. Learn to do it as soon as you enter a room, and not by looking around either. Never, ever call attention to yourself. Use your peripheral vision, your gut, your instincts. But try to look normal, or at least half-way normal. This is a bar, so order a drink, just don't drink it. You wanna stay alert. But make sure you tip the waitress or buy some female a drink or something so you don't start to look suspicious. You wanna be like a puff of smoke."

Just then the prostitute, the fly-boy beggar and the bus boy pull out weapons and pounce on the guy with the padd and his companion that had entered the bar just a few minutes earlier and slid something to the padd guy. It turns out the prostitute, the beggar and the bus-boy were undercover police offers that had been working the bar for several weeks. They had finally gotten their man.

For the next few weeks Trip shadowed JC to various "hot spots," or bars, restaurants, hover car stations, and the like, watching, observing, and sizing up. JC also taught him certain specialized, but lethal fighting techniques. Trip practiced them over and over in simulation. During his last couple of weeks in San Francisco, JC took Trip on three real life "_excursions," _as JC referred to them_. _Trip surprised himself at what he did during those three events. They were in themselves, life changing.

St Croix, Virgin Islands.

It was late, in the middle of the night, and just starting to get a little cold. They had taken a shuttle pod to the Virgin Islands. From the landing spot, they took a hover car. Trip had not been given any details about why they were there. He was simply told that JC had a job, and that they had a location on some pretty bad guys who had stolen something very important to some important people associated with Starfleet who wished to remain anonymous.

Thirty-six hours ago, a terrorist organization had stolen data discs obtaining information about Section 31 Operatives in the field. If this information fell into the wrong hands, it could be disastrous. JC and his team had to steal the discs back. The terrorists had spent the last few hours trying to break the decryption codes, but had been unsuccessful. Therefore, time was of the essence.

"Okay CT," JC said to Trip outside what looked like a vacant warehouse. "This is it. This is what we been working on all these weeks, the real deal. Are you ready?'

"Ready as I'll ever be," Trip replied. He and JC, as well as three other individuals whom were only known by initials, were all dressed in black and wore black skull caps. They were all armed.

"You sure, cause, once it's done, it's done, and you can never go back. Once you become an expert in this field, you can never be normal in the way you used to be. That part of you will be gone forever."

"Most of who I used to be is already gone," Trip replied. "Gotta fill the empty holes up with somethin', might as well be somethin' that may save my life or somebody I care about one day."

"Alright then," JC said and looked at Trip squarely in the eyes. "Once we enter the building, there's a guard at the desk. Your assignment- take him out. Then you have to locate the discs for the rest of the team and disable all the systems inside that building. We need to get in without being detected and so they can't power up their ship or blow us out of the sky. RJ will be covering you until it's done and we're back in the car. If anybody else comes through, take 'em out. Once we have the items in question. We'll head straight to the shuttle after that. You got ten minutes, go." Trip nodded.

_"Gotta remember not to think too much," _Trip told himself_. "I don't know the guy, don't need to know him or what he's done or not done. Don't worry about whether he has a wife or kid; if he's a good guy. I'm operating on a need to know basis and I don't need to know. He's the enemy, and the enemy needs killing. That's it and that's all. No time for knocking the guy out, or tying him up. Got a job to do, just focus on the job. You can do it Trip, you can do it. It just needs to be done, so stop yaking to yourself and get to it!"_

Trip entered the building right behind RJ. He quickly observed his surroundings, checking out where the cameras were, if anyone else was present, where the escape routes were. He saw the guard and headed straight for him.

"Hey! What are you doing in here!?" the guard asked. But, before he could react or do much else, Trip leaped over the desk and was on top of him. He applied a blow to his neck with his fingers, cutting off the guard's air supply instantly. He then got to the computer console and studied it for a few minutes. Being the brilliant engineer that he was, it didn't take him long to figure out how to break into it. That's why he had been chosen for this particular assignment. He entered a few codes, and the door to the main computer slid open. Trip quickly located the items in question, disabled the alarm, the lights, the elevators and pretty much everything else. He then reached for a communicator.

"It's done," he called out to JC. And it was.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Eight

Ten Months From the Day of His Capture by the Lysirians.

When Trip walked past his crew mates on the ship, everyone did a double take. Was this the same Trip Tucker they had always known? He was bigger, thick muscular arms with biceps and triceps bulging all over the place, so much so he had to get new, bigger uniforms. He had rock hard abs, an eight pack, and he was freakishly strong. He walked with an air about him too… it was self assurance. He even seemed taller, but of course that was body posture and confidence.

Everyone noticed the new Trip, even Archer and Phlox. Phlox had told the Captain about Starfleet's report of Trip's therapy and how hard he worked and pushed himself to regain his mental stability. Of course there had been bumps in the road. A couple of times after a grueling therapy session he had been admitted to the hospital again for observation. He had simply dissolved, had a melt down and had to be hospitalized for a few days. But each time he got through it and forged his way back to sanity. His Starfleet doctors were proud of him and impressed with his resolve to get better. They had cleared him as fit for duty without hesitation.

Trip worked hard as usual, and some of his charm and affability had even returned. He even occasionally teased T'Pol and told a joke. About half of the time he seemed like the old Trip, but his appearance and demeanor gave every indication that that Trip was no more. And this new, stronger, more serious, confident and even a little paranoid, individual had taken his place.

Malcolm noticed that in his work out sessions that Trip seemed much stronger than someone his height and weight, and that his technique was flawless. Even when Trip sparred in the ring with one of the MACOS he got the best of them, every time. Pretty soon his reputation spread around the ship and no one else wanted to work out or spar with him; everybody except T'Pol that is. She eventually became his regular sparring partner.

He could bench press more than anyone on the ship, out run even the younger MACOS, and throw a punch that could knock his opponent out with one blow. He was at 96% efficiency with weapons, hitting targets at great distances, even moving ones. Trip had become a bad-ass, and everyone knew it.

It was a major change and it took a little adjusting for some of his crew mates as they just didn't know what to make of the new Chief Engineer. Trip was no longer getting injured on every away mission and ending up in sickbay all the time. Actually, he had proven to be quite an asset on away missions. The most recent one had been a result of the ship responding to a distress call from

a small planet near Rigel X. The Captain, T'Pol, Trip and Malcolm had taken a shuttle pod down to investigate.

They were ambushed by a group of Nausicaans that had crash landed there whom had helped eighteen dangerous criminals escape from a prison from the C'Dars system. The Nausiciaans were holding five prison guards hostage along with the Prison Administrator, a couple of Denobulan Scientist from whom they had demanded ransom, as well as seven Betazoid women, one of which was a part of the royal family from Betazed. The Nausicaans had hi-jacked the Betazoid ship that was providing transport to the scientists. They had killed the crew and used the ship to help the prisoners escape, for a significant fee of course.

The Nausicaans had been there for about ten days trying to lure someone with a big enough ship or shuttle pod to steal. They thought they had found their way off the planet when Enterprise responded to their distress call.

"How many of them are there?" the Captain asked.

"At least seven," Malcolm answered.

"Captain, what are your orders?" T'Pol, asked. "We are clearly out-numbered. Should we attempt a diplomatic solution?"

"Leave it up to you T'Pol to be talkin' about diplomatic solutions at a time

like this," Trip Tucker, the ship's Chief Engineer snapped.

"There is no other logical conclusion Commander. It makes no sense to

engage in a fight we cannot possibly win."

"Speak for yourself," Trip snapped again. "I say we take 'em!"

"Are you serious?" Reed asked. "Stand and fight?"

"It would be more like stand and die trying," T'Pol responded flatly.

"No, it would be like not throwin' in the towel, jumpin' ship, going down

fightin'!" Trip snapped back at her.

"It would be illogical to proceed."

"Nobody, nobody, but you T'Pol, would be thinkin' about logic when they're about to get their ass kicked, possibly killed!"

" I am merely suggesting that perhaps we should attempt to establish a dialogue."

"A dialogue!" Trip replied. "You gotta be kiddin me. Do these guys look

like they wanna talk?!"

"Now, now children," Jon said calmly. "This is not the time."

"Perhaps we should consider surrendering," Malcolm interjected. "We may have an opportunity to escape later."

"Not a chance," Jon replied. "They'll just kill us later. Besides, we're not exactly outnumbered. Malcolm, you and I can take the two on the right. T'Pol, you take the one right in front of us, and Trip, you take the rest."

"Take the rest?!" Malcolm almost shouted. "We're all going to die in just a

few moments!"

"Speak for yourself!" Trip replied. "Death is always coming for us, but not today!" Trip killed three of the seven Nausicaans and helped the rest of his team overpower the other four. He had not wanted to spare any of them, but Captain Archer had ordered him to stand down and took him for a walk to help calm him and help him regain his focus and control.

"Captain," T'Pol said as Archer and Trip rejoined the away team. "I am reading multiple bio-signs coming from that direction," she said as she pointed northeast.

"Human?" Archer asked.

"No Captain, Nausicaan, Denobulan and Betazoid, at least 12. But there are others as well that I am unfamiliar with, at least 20."

"I guess this planet is not so deserted after all," Malcolm stated.

"Let's check it out," Archer said and began to walk in the direction T'Pol had pointed in."

"Captain!" Malcolm interjected firmly. Archer stopped and allowed Malcolm to get in front of him, phase pistol drawn.

"Let's all stick together," he ordered. "No wandering off alone, got that Mr. Tucker?"

"You don't have to worry about me," Trip said. "I know the rules and I intend to follow them."

The team walked through the bush and trees and finally spotted an old building about 500 yards away. There was also a small ship. They entered the building, Reed leading the way. They were met with weapons fire from the other marauders still inside the building. The Enterprise crew quickly overcame them. They found the hostages and the prisoners.

"Captain, I can't thank you and your team for our rescue," the C'Darsian Administrator said. "Our captors were barbaric and without honor. Once the ransom was paid, they would have killed us just the same."

"No problem Administrator," Archer said. "But we've got to get you off this planet and that may prove problematic. Our ship is scheduled to rendezvous with a delegation that we are to deliver to a very importance conference in just a few days. There are over 40 delegates waiting our transport and safe deliverance to that conference. It's critical that this conference takes place. The problem is that not only are we pressed for time, our ship will not hold the delegation as well as everyone here."

"It may be feasible to leave the prisoners behind," T'Pol suggested. "Surely they would be no threat alone on a deserted planet."

"Under different circumstances I might agree," the Administrator said. "But, these are some of the worst criminals in our system. Dangerous killers, mass murderers, terrorists. If any were to escape it would be catastrophic. Even if we left them for a few days, there are not enough food rations and this planet's atmosphere has already made many of us sick. If we left them to die, their families, our government would consider it a most heinous crime. No, they must be delivered back to the prison."

"What about the Betazoid people and the Denobulan Scientists? Malcolm asked. "Surely we could provide them transport."

"But, that wouldn't solve the problem for the C'Darsians," Archer said. "Each of their systems are hundreds of light years apart. We've got to come up with a better plan." Just then Trip walked up. He had been assessing the damage of the Betazoid ship.

"Capt'n," he started, "just finished looking at that ship. I can repair it. Need to borrow some parts from Enterprise reserves and a few of my engineers to assist me. But, that ship can fly."

"Administrator, this is Commander Charles Tucker, my Chief Engineer." Trip nodded and shook his hand.

"You really think you can repair it?" he asked.

"If Mr. Tucker says it can be done Administrator, it can be done," Archer interjected. "I guarantee it."

"But we have no pilot. None of my people can fly. The Betazoid women's pilot and crew were killed."

"That ship was built for about a crew of 20 or so," Trip said. "It can transport about 20 more. You're gonna need a pilot, four of five engineers to keep the engines going, a couple of navigators, someone to run the comm., a few security and weapons officers."

"What are you suggesting Commander?" T'Pol asked.

"I'm suggesting we pull about 20 of the Enterprise crew, give 'em a food synthesizer and a few spare parts just in case, and they can get these people home inside about 15 days."

"That is an ambitious undertaking," T'Pol replied.

"But it could be done Captain," Malcolm suggested. "We could put the prisoners in a cargo bay or lock them in crew quarters. I could assign a security team, send a few MACOs."

"What about hostiles in the area Captain?" the Administrator asked. "Ours is a particular dangerous area of space. Pirateering is not uncommon."

"There's also the threat of encountering a number of aggressive species we are already familiar with as well Captain," T'Pol said.

"I think we've all learned over the last couple of years that space travel can be dangerous, even with the best of intentions," Archer replied.

"Capt'n, I think I have something that might give 'em a leg up," Trip said. "That ship has a cloaking device. That's why we couldn't detect the bio-signs earlier. It's damaged, but I worked on that one on that Sullibon pod we had in our cargo bay last year. Got it up and running long enough to make a rescue, remember."

"Yes," Archer said, "and not a minute too soon."

"Assuming Commander Tucker can get the Betazoid ship up and running," T'Pol began, "The ship will need a Commander, someone to lead the mission. Who shall it be Captain?"

"I'd be willing to take on the responsibility Captain," Malcolm suggested. "This is going to be quite dangerous."

"I am the logical choice," T'Pol replied. "I am the Science Officer and I have Command experience."

"Actually, I'm the logical choice," Trip spoke up. "This ship is going to be patched up and anything could go wrong. It's gonna need a pretty damned good engineer on board. Also, I have command experience, I can fly and I know somethin' 'bout weapons to boot. Besides, I'm the only one who can deal with the cloaking device and the shields, operate them, make repairs if need be. I'm the perfect choice."

Archer considered this for a moment, so did T'Pol and Malcolm. Trip was right, he was the perfect choice for this mission. The only thing was, Trip had not been on an away mission alone since he had returned to Enterprise. He had been on several, and had done an excellent job, but this was different. Anything could happen and none of them would be there to rescue him. It would be putting his life on the line again as well as others.

"Malcolm, T'Pol, thank you for volunteering, but I need both of you on Enterprise," Archer responded. He then looked at Trip. "Commander, you will be in charge of this mission. Pick your engineering team and get started on repairs.

Malcolm, get a security team and the MACOs ready, along with whatever weapons they'll need. T'Pol, talk to chef about rations, and determine what other supplies they'll need. Then chart a course for each destination and pick a rendezvous point in 15 days. Let's meet back here in six hours for a status report. You have your orders, dismissed."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Nine

The Betazoid Ship, the Aphrodite.

Trip's crew consisted of six MACOs and four security officers, three armory officers and five engineers, led by Michael Rostov; four bridge officers, a medic, Liz Cutler, and a cook. He had four experienced officers, Lt. Carter, Ensigns Hall, Cutler and Rostov. Everyone else were pretty much greenhorns.

The Betazoid women helped by manning the mess hall and sick bay. The C'Darsian prison guards guarded their prisoners. In all, 32 people were under Trip's command, for a total of 52 individuals aboard the ship including the prisoners and he was determined not to lose a single one. The first order of business was to return the prisoners to the C'Dars system. It would not be any easy task.

Day Four.

"Commander," Lt. Carter, the Acting Science Officer called out, "there's a ship approaching at warp four."

"Identify," Trip ordered.

"Orion Sir," she replied after a few moments.

"Tucker to Rostov," Trip said depressing the comm.

"How's our cloaking device holding up?"

"Good Sir."

"Good. Keep us hidden for the next hour. We got an Orion ship approaching at warp four. I'd like to pass on by it without incident."

"Aye Captain," Rostov said. "I-I mean, Commander!" Trip grinned. Everyone kept slipping and calling him Captain.

They were able to pass by the Orion vessel and continue on course. But, the cloaking device continued to go on and off line. Trip had to keep going back and forwards from the bridge to engineering.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before they came within sensor range of an unknown vessel with considerable weapons. Now the unknown ship was approaching at warp 3.5.

The Aphrodite tried to outrun the ship, but they were soon within 25,000 kilometers, and charging weapons.

"Captain, an unidentified vessel just dropped out of warp," the Helmsman said. "They're on an intercept course."

"Hail them!" Trip shouted.

"No response Captain!" Ensign Hall called out from the communications console. Trip shot her a glance. She had not even realized what she had said.

"Barrett, make weapons hot! Everybody!" he called out depressing the ship wide comm, "hold onto your asses, we're in for a fight!" Suddenly, a torpedo hit them.

"Shields?!" he called out.

"Holding Sir!" 96%.

"Damn good shields!" Trip said. "Fire torpedoes Mr. Barrett!" The torpedoes hit the alien ship.

"No impact Sir."

"Target their shields with phase cannons and hit 'em with everything we got!" Trip ordered.

"Everything Sir?" the tactical officer asked.

"You heard me! We gotta get their shields down if we're gonna kill 'em, now follow my orders!"

"Aye Sir," Barrett replied and fired both phase cannons, followed by several rounds of torpedo fire.

"Shields down!" Carter called out.

"Target their warp reactor!" Trip said. "Now!" Crewman Barrett fired as directed. Within a few moments, the enemy ship's warp reactor began to breach.

"Rostov!" Trip shouted into the comm. "Get us out of here!"

"Commander! The weapons put a drain on the engines; I can only give you high impulse!"

"You gotta do better than that Mike! Otherwise, we're gonna get caught in the debris field left from that ship's breach!"

"Any suggestions Sir?" Rostov asked panicked.

"Carter, route all power from any unoccupied places on the ship, mess hall, cargo bay, transport, get the picture! Even life support!"

"Aye Sir," Carter said.

"Mike," purge the manifold systems, do it two-three times, then restart the plasma relays, but watch out for the anti-matter re-mix, make sure it's right; and in five, push those engines to warp!"

"Aye Sir!" Rostov said.

"Warp core breach in six minutes Sir," Carter reported. Those six minutes seemed to evaporate in six seconds.

"We got warp!" Rostov called out over the comm.

"Helmsman!" get us the hell out of here!" Trip ordered. Within seconds the Aphrodite jumped to warp 2, then 3. The ship was jostled from the debris field left by the alien ship and some of the crew went flying. There were a few bloody noses and some sprained wrists and minor concussions all over the ship, but nothing serious.

Day Seven.

Trip woke up to his comm sounding. He shifted in the bed, and still half-asleep, he reached for the button over his head.

"Tucker here," he grumbled.

"Sorry to disturb you Sir, but we've got a problem," the Gamma shift comm Officer said.

"What is it?" Trip asked sitting up quickly.

"Someone's using the transporter Sir."

"What?! Transporter? Who, where are they going?"

"I don't know Sir, but there! It just powered up again, ten life signs before and ten just now!"

"What the hell!" he said jumping to his feet. "He grabbed the same uniform he had just taken off just two hours ago. He looked at his chronometer as he pulled on the jumpsuit. It was 3:30 am.

After dressing, he hurried to the bridge. Checking for bio-signs throughout the ship, he noticed that 22 were missing from the crew quarters that housed the C'Darsian prisoners and guards. He determined that they had transported from the locked quarters and had beamed down to a near-by planet that was sparsely habited. Only about 11,000 colonists from varying worlds were living on it.

Trip had awakened the C'Darsian Administrator, the MACOS and the security officers that were off duty. Within 20 minutes, a team had been assembled and they set out to retrieve the prisoners. It had been determined that several of the C'Darsian guards had helped the prisoners escape when they had dropped out of warp and gone to low impulse to preserve warp plasma and let the engines rest for a few hours.

Lt. Carter and Ensign Hall had argued that Trip should not accompany the away team, that Starfleet regulations forbade a Captain from accompanying this type of away mission. However, Trip had argued that the regulation didn't apply to him since he was not a Captain. So, he along with the six MACOS, four security officers, and two C'Darsian guards set out to retrieve the prisoners, even though they were outnumbered. They had tracked them to an abandoned warehouse just outside the main city.

"Hey, listen up," Trip spoke softly into the night air. "Some of them are armed, so be careful. I want everyone's weapons set to stun. I want everybody back alive, understood?"

"Aye Captain!" they all said together. Trip thought about correcting them, but just let it go for now.

"I want nine sets of boots on the ground, surround this dump. The others are with me. We're gonna drop in on our friends unannounced. On my signal, ground troops invade." Trip and four others climbed on top of the fragile roof. After a few moments, the ground team forced their way into the building.

There was phase pistol fire as many of the prisoners were stunned upon entry. Two or three of the prisoners were able to grab weapons and return fire, stunning several members of the away team. Then several others attacked the away team. That's when Trip and his roof team, dropped through the ceiling.

A fight ensued and for a few minutes it seemed that the prisoners were going to prevail. But Trip was having none of that. He shot one escapee from behind one of his people's back as he held a gun to the MACOs' neck. He turned just as a prisoner tried to attack him from behind; he grabbed the man and ran his head into a wall. He snatched another one off one of his guys and threw him across the room. The fight soon balanced out; the crew winning this battle.

Once the situation was under control, and the prisoners were being transported back to the ship, Trip began to question the guards taken as hostages.

"I want to know what happened, and I want to know right now, so start talkin,'' Trip demanded, "or you're all going to be joining these guys on lockdown."

"We were taken as hostages," one of the guards said. "We were forced to come with them."

"Yeah?" Trip asked, "how the hell did they get out of doors, locked from the

outside?"

"We have no idea!" one of the guards said. "All we know is that three of them had phase pistols, they took us by surprise. Someone on the ship must have helped them."

"How come I don't believe that?" Trip spat out. Suddenly, the guard attacked Trip. But, it had been a mistake. Having been knocked to the floor, Trip swung his right leg under his attacker, hurdling him to the floor. He then leapt to his feet and promptly punched the guard one good time and it was lights out!

Before the MACOS could react, two other guards attacked Trip. A couple of the MACOs almost abandoned their guard of the prisoners to help, but Trip wouldn't hear of it.

"Hold your positions!" he called out. "I got this!" With that he punched one of the guards, knocking him unconscious with one blow. The other one had grabbed Trip from the back and attempted to choke him with is forearm. Trip jabbed him with elbow in his midsection. He stumbled backwards. Trip then turned spinning with a kick to the guard's head that rendered him unconscious.

"Anybody else!" he shouted, spinning and looking around. No one stepped forward.

Minutes later, all the prisoners had been transported back to the ship and put back on lock down, along with the four guards who helped them escape. It turns out that they were not guards taken hostage after all, but prisoners from the beginning.

The crew was impressed with their CO's command skills and style. Within a week, Trip and his crew safely delivered the C'Darsains to their home world. Repairs were made to the ship and the crew was off to Betazed. Shields were operable, but the cloaking device was still not working well.

Day Twelve.

The ship traveled without incident for five more days, but things being as they were, they were attacked by pirates on the before they could enter into Betazed space. The cloaking device failed and their shields had taken a pounding. But Trip would not back down. He had promised to get these people home, and that's what he was going to do. They were boarded and engaged in hand to hand combat.

"We're taking this ship!" the intruder announced on the bridge after beaming aboard with three companions. "Surrender and we'll spare your crew Captain."

"You can't have the ship and nobody's dying today!" Trip said leaping from the command chair. "That is except you!"

"Brave talk for a man about to be killed if you don't surrender, now!"

"Hadn't anybody ever told you," Trip replied, "I'm hard to kill!" As Trip ran toward the intruder, he got off a couple of phase pistol shots. Trip barely dodged the first one and the second one hit him in his left shoulder, but he kept coming. Then, turning and flying, he threw a very precise kick to the intruder's chest who flew backwards, dropping his phase pistol. Trip leaped on him and thrust his fingers into his throat. The intruder fell over, dead.

The Rigelians exchanged phase pistol fire with the MACOS on the bridge. One MACO went down, and one of the pirates soon followed. Trip was then attacked by two others. One grabbed him from the front, then other from the back. He head butted the pirate in front of him, who fell to the floor unconscious. With his attacker on his back, Trip then ran upon the bulkhead in front of him, taking his attacker with him. Using the bulkhead as leverage, he flipped over the pirate and landed just behind him, he pushed his head into the wall and the pirate fell to the floor dead.

Carter and Hall watched in horrific awe at what was happening on the bridge right in front of them as they continued to do battle with the Rigelian ship.

The MACOs held phase pistols on the pirates. The armory had been sealed off and the pirates that beamed directly there were met immediately with the security team. They were stunned and easily detained. Suddenly, the intruders all disappeared in a flashing light.

The ship was hit again by a birage of weapons fire. The ship shook as a couple of small fires erupted on the bridge. Trip was hit in the side by flying shrapnel. He fell to the floor, hitting his head as he did so, but quickly jumped up when Rostov commed him.

"Sir, they've damaged our starboard port nacelles! What do we do?"

"Be there… in a… second," Trip choked out as he rose from the floor.

"Sir, you're hurt!" Carter called out running over to him and reaching for the piece of shrapnel embedded in his side.

"Don't!" Trip said. "Just make it… bleed more. I'm going to engineerin', you…have the con."

"But, Sir!"

"Just follow my order!" Trip yelled, not in the mood, nor did he have time for niceties.

He ran to engineering, helped the team with the engine problem so they could keep flying, then he ran back to the bridge.

The Rigelian ship was damaged, but was able to take a few parting shots just before jumping to warp. The ship shook.

"Damage report!" Trip called out.

"Shields damaged, some of our other systems are off line as well," Hall said. Then there was a call from Rostov in engineering.

"Captain Tucker! The engines are failing, we're gonna be sitting ducks if we don't get back on line soon!"

"Get… on it… Mike," Trip said winded. "They've gone to warp, and I think we scared them off. I'm counting on you, we're all counting on you. Tucker out," "Lt. Carter," he said, "you have the bridge," Then darkness claimed him.

Sick Bay, Aphrodite.

Trip started to stir. He felt like his head weighed a ton. He tried to rise up but felt hands holding him down.

"H-how long… have I…been out," he grumbled.

"Three hours, Sir," Ensign Liz Cutler answered. Trip smiled a little bit at the sight of her. It was good to see a familiar face.

"How are you feeling Captain Tucker?" a beautiful Betazoid woman who was helping with the injured asked.

"That's _Commander_ Tucker," he replied, "and I feel like I just ran a 26 mile marathon, carrying an Orion on my back-we came in last. What's our status?" he asked Carter whom he spotted standing off in a corner. "And why aren't you on the bridge?"

"Begging your pardon Sir," she answered shakily. "But, I just came to check on you. We've got a situation."

"Well, let's hear it," Trip spat out.

"The engineering team have been working on the engines for three hours, but we still don't have warp drive… and… and"

"Well, what is it?"

"T-that ship, Sir! They're on their way back, and their bringing company!"

"How many!" he asked jumping from the bio-bed.

"Three Commander," Carter replied, "approaching at warp 4.5." Trip looked around.

"How long," he asked.

"'Bout forty minutes Sir."

"Get me a uniform!" he ordered.

"Commander, you really shouldn't be getting up and moving around. You have a concussion and your shoulder has a phase pistol burn. That shrapnel went in pretty deep too. You might start bleeding again," Cutler said.

"Isn't there anyone else who can take command?" the Betazoid asked.

"All due respect ma'am, but this is my hayride." A crewman handed him a fresh uniform. "Now if you'll excuse me," he said and pulled on the jumpsuit right in front of everybody. As he was pulling on his boots, the ship shook.

"Thought you said forty minutes!?" he shouted and depressed the comm., then grabbed his shoulder. "Tucker to bridge!"

"Sir, it's another ship! More Orions!"

"Aw hell!" Trip said and broke out into a run. He raced through the corridor and to a turbo lift. He bolted from it and raced to engineering. He immediately assessed the situation and frantically started to work on the engines with the team.

"Engineering to bridge!" Carter called out. "Commander Tucker, you're needed on the bridge!"

"Be there in a second Lieutenant! Just keep 'em busy, I've got an idea! Rostov, guys, I'm gonna do somethin' real strange, just don't panic. In a few

minutes you're gonna see something scary, ignore it! All I need you to do is keep her running steady and be prepared to jump to warp on my signal."

"But, Sir, we don't have warp!" Rostov said.

"Trust me!" he said and shot out the door. Rostov and his team stood there looking horrified as they saw the engines overload. Had their CO just set their engines to breach?

Trip raced the corridor for the bridge. Once there, he met the frightened looks of his bridge crew.

"Sir!" Hall said, "we're headed for a warp core breach in about ten minutes!"

Trip nodded, "I know! Fire weapons!" he called out to the tactical officer. Barrett nodded, not really knowing why, it wouldn't matter in a few minutes anyway, but he begin firing weapons just the same.

Lt. Carter looked at Trip, fear in her eyes, "Sir the breach," she said.

"W-what are we gonna do?"

"Trust me Lieutenant!" he said. "I told you no one was gonna die on my watch, and damn it, I meant that!"

The Orion ship fired back several times, but detecting the impending warp core breach, sped away at warp three.

"Engineering!" Trip called out over the comm. "Go to warp, now!" Everyone, especially the engineering team was surprised when they actually jumped to warp. Everyone cheered.

"Commander, what on earth did you do?" Carter asked

"Faked a warp core breach," he said, "done it before. Just created a little pyrotechnics display. " All of the bridge crew smiled.

"Rostov to Tucker," said a voice over the comm.

"Tucker here."

"I get the fake warp core breach Sir," Rostov said. "But how did you get the engines back on line so quickly. We'd been working on it for a while, what did you do?"

"Actually Mike, you guys had done a great job. I just rerouted the deuterium flow, made it back up on itself. Caused a little cascade in the tubes that spread out at almost light speed. Warp was a result."

"Sir, anybody ever told you that you were an absolute genius!" Rostov said.

"Once or twice," Trip said, "But I ignored them, they were my mom and dad." Everyone laughed a little. Trip grabbed his side and winced. He staggered as two of the bridge crewman rushed over to steady him. He looked at his hand and it was covered with blood.

"Oh no," Trip said, "Not again!" then it was lights out. Cutler insisted that Trip stay in sick bay this time. He was there for the next 48 hours as they cruised on to Betazed.

It was a successful mission. And, even though they were five days late, the Delobulan and C'Darsian government along the Royal Family of Betazed were extremely grateful. Captain Archer and his crew had been beside themselves with worry when Trip and his crew had not shown up at the rendezvous point. Archer had questioned his decision to let Trip take on such a dangerous mission. He was relieved to hear from Trip when they finally got all their systems back on line and could send a message.

Several members of the bridge crew, the MACOs and security team, the engineers and the other crewman not currently manning a station, all lined up in the cargo bay to greet the Betazed Prime Ministers who had come to collect their people as well as the Denobulan Scientists. As Trip walked through, the crew members lined up on either side of him, they all greeted him.

"Commander," they said, one by one as he passed them. He nodded his head to each of them. At the end of the line, one of the crewmen saluted him. They all stood at attention and saluted him.

"This is not the military," he said, "I'm a Starfleet officer, not a MACO, so no saluting required."

"Permission to speak freely Sir?" Carter asked. Trip nodded.

"Commander Tucker, we've never seen anything like what you've done in the last few weeks. We owe you our lives, all of us. What you've accomplished has been nothing short of a miracle. We kinda hate to see this mission end, and we'd all serve under you again, in a heartbeat. You're one hell of a warrior Sir!"

Trip just folded his arms in front of him as he looked down. "Thanks," he said softly. "But it's you guys who deserve the credit. You all were one hell of a team," and he saluted them. "Now let's get this show on the road. Ensign, open the docking bay doors."

"Aye Sir," Carter said. Trip turned back and looked at his little crew and smiled to himself. Yes, it had been a successful mission.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Ten

Trip had submitted a modest report regarding the Aphrodite mission, but Carter, Rostov and Cutler submitted reports detailing the harrowing events they had dealt with during the mission and how one Commander Charles Anthony Tucker III, had led them through it in exemplary fashion. His skills as a commander were of the highest competency, and his engineering skills were nothing short of miraculous. There was footage of the hand to hand combat from when they were boarded and how Trip had saved the ship from the Orion attack while injured.

The C'Darsian and Denobulan governments as well as the Betazoid Royal family also contacted Starfleet Command regarding the dynamic Chief Engineer who had been relentless in completing this mission. But, all Trip wanted to do now, was to get back to his precious engines on Enterprise.

Several Weeks Later.

For the next several weeks Enterprise settled back into exploration phase. They explored a couple of M class planets and a trinary star system that T'Pol was interested in. Upon completion of studying the star system, Enterprise headed to Flavin Six, a planet that was hosting a medical conference where Phlox would be attending. While one-third of the ship's crew visited the planet and Phlox attended the conference, Captain Archer was busy giving 20 delegates a tour of the ship, when he was commed by the bridge. Suddenly, they found themselves once again looking down the phase cannons of another hostile species.

Enterprise Bridge, 1030 hrs.

"Captain," T'Pol said, "There's a vessel approaching at warp 4. They're on an intercept course."

"Can you identify them?" Archer asked.

"No Captain. They are not in the Vulcan data base."

"Hail them," Archer said turning to Hoshi.

"No response Captain," she said after a few moments.

"They're charging weapons Sir," Malcolm said.

"Polarize Hull plating and make weapons ready," Archer replied. "Travis, get us out here."

"Aye Sir," Travis replied and began to increase speed moving away from the planet where the conference was being held. If there was a fire fight he would prefer it be further out into space rather than within the planet's atmosphere.

"They're matching speed Captain," Travis said.

"Archer to Tucker," he said depressing the comm.

"Tucker here."

"We need more speed Trip, we're being pursued by an unknown species and we think they may be hostile."

"I'm on it Captain," Trip replied.

"Captain, we are already at warp 4.8," T'Pol interjected.

"If Trip says he can give us more speed, he can give us more speed," Archer replied.

"Captain, we're at warp 5," Travis replied. "Warp 5.2….warp 5.5! We can't stay at that speed for long! And the aliens are matching our speed."

Suddenly a blast hit the ship. "Damage report!" Archer called out.

"Significant damage to decks C and D," Hoshi replied. There was another blast and several of the bridge crew went flying.

"Hull plating down to 69%," Malcolm called out.

"Evasive maneuvers Travis. Malcolm, fire phase cannons, target their engines!" Archer ordered. There was a powerful blast and this time Captain Archer went flying across the room hitting the wall. He lay there bleeding and unconscious as T'Pol depressed the comm.

"Bridge to sickbay, Medical emergency on the bridge," she stated. "Mr. Reed, we need more weapons fire."

"Weapons just went off line!"

"And we just dropped out of warp!" Travis added.

"Commander, we're being boarded!" Hoshi shouted. "Transported in,

Engineering and the Armory!

"Mr. Reed, get a security team with the MACOs to those areas now!"

"Commander, I'm also reading alien bio-signs on C and D decks."

"I'll assemble two more teams!" Malcolm replied before the order was given.

Engineering.

Four aliens had beamed right into engineering. Two looked like a large ant and two others looked like some type of reptile. They shot several of the engineering crew members immediately. The other crew members started to run and take cover. Before Trip could react, someone grabbed him from the back and held their arm around his neck. He jabbed his elbow into their mid-section, bit the alien's arm and bent over throwing the alien over his shoulder. Once he landed in front of him, Trip kicked him in the head rendering him unconscious.

He then ran to assist Rostov. He quickly came up behind the alien beating Rostov and twisted his neck, killing him instantly.

"Commander!" Rostov shouted. "The warp reactor, they set it to blow!"

"Get everybody out of here!" Trip shouted back.

"What about you Sir?"

"Get out of here Ensign, that's an order!" Trip then raced up the stairs and begin trying to shut off the warp reactor. He was attacked by another reptilian looking alien. They fought for several minutes. Then Trip administered a blow to the creatures' mid-section. His hand penetrated the alien's body and Trip withdrew his hand, bloodied from the alien's insides as Rostov and several others watched in horrific awe. The alien fell to the floor dead.

"Everybody out!" Trip yelled out wiping his hand on his uniform and gesturing for the staff to get out as he ran for the warp reactor.

Once every one was out he sealed the doors to engineering. Rostov and Hess were helping some of the injured in the hallway when Lt. Reed and several MACOS arrived.

"Where's Commander Tucker?" he asked.

"Still in there Sir," Hess replied. "He ordered us all out and sealed himself in. A warp core breach is in process and he's trying to shut it down!"

"Bloody idiot!" Malcolm yelled. "Hess, Rostov, get everyone as far away from here as possible, move!"

"Begging your pardon Sir, but if that thing blows, it won't matter much anyway," Hess said.

"Just follow my order Lieutenant," Malcolm replied. Hess nodded and she and Rostov proceeded to help the injured get away from engineering. Malcolm hurried over to the engineering doors with his team and they tried to get the doors open.

"Damn it!" Malcolm shouted and banged his hand on the bulkhead. "Trip! Trip!" he tried to shout over the alarm. "Trip, get the hell out of there!" But nothing happened. Malcolm then gestured for the MACOS to move out of the area. As they were turning to run, suddenly, the alarm shut down. He had done it. Trip had prevented a warp core breach. A few minutes later the doors to engineering slid open.

"If I weren't so grateful for you saving everyone's lives, I would punch your lights out for being so stupid!" Malcolm said when he saw Trip emerge.

"Are the aliens gone? Is everyone all right?" Trip asked.

"There are injuries all over the ship, mostly minor. The Captain was hurt, Phlox was with him when I last saw him," Malcolm replied.

Trip moved over to the comm. "Tucker to the bridge"

"Commander!" Hoshi shouted. "They've taken Commander T'Pol, they're headed for launch bay two!"

Trip did not respond, he, Malcolm and the two MACOS immediately sprinted for the turbo lift. Malcolm handed Trip a phase pistol when they got in the lift. They sprinted for launch bay two and as soon as the doors slid open, they saw one of the aliens holding a phase pistol on T'Pol as she opened the door to shuttle pod two. The alien grabbed her and pulled her in front of him.

"One more move and she dies!" the alien spat out.

"It's over," Reed responded. "All of your comrades are either dead or being detained, so lower your weapon, now." As soon as he finished speaking two more aliens appeared from behind the shuttle pod.

"Yes, it is over," the alien said. "Now throw your weapons down and back away or she dies. We are leaving in your vessel, and we are taking her with us to ensure you won't blast us out of the sky."

"No!" Trip shouted. "Let her go you freak-show bastard!"

"Commander!" T'Pol interjected. "The Captain's injured, you're in command, you must stand down and ensure Enterprise's safety."

"I'm not letting them take you!"

"Can you take him?" Malcolm asked Trip.

"I can take him!" Trip replied.

"Do it!" Malcolm shouted. But Trip had already taken the shot. The reptilian creature fell backwards having been struck in the head. One of the aliens fired and struck one of the MACOS. Malcolm and the other MACO fired upon the two remaining aliens, killing them as Trip ran to assist T'Pol.

She had fallen and hit her head when the alien fell dead. '"Y-you, dis…obeyed …my order," she said to Trip as he pulled her up from the floor.

"Well you can put me on report later," he replied as he scooped her up in his arms and headed for sick bay.

That Evening, Planet Surface – Medical Conference.

It had already been one hell of a day. Trip, Malcolm and his security team, along with several MACOs had escorted their guests back to the surface, but was invited to attend a reception. Trip and Malcolm hadn't wanted to but knew it would be politically incorrect not to do so.

Trip had surveyed the room when they entered, inspecting it to determine if there was anything suspicious going on. "Something's not right Mal," he whispered to the armory officer. "Just can't put my finger on it."

"Agreed," the Brit replied, surprised at Trip's awareness and suspicious nature.

"Let's just stay sharp, somethin's gonna jump off, I can feel it." Malcolm nodded as they went separate ways, watching, surveying. They both nursed drinks and mingled a little, but continued to maintain eye contact with one another.

Suddenly, several unhappy guests, and several members of the security team, pulled out weapons and begin to round up the delegates to one side of the room. Before Malcolm and his team could react, they were relieved of their weapons. The assailants were a group of terrorists, intending on taking hostages and using them to force their government to meet their demands.

"I can not believe this!" Trip whispered to Malcolm as they huddled against the wall along with over one hundred other people. "We have got to be the most unlucky sons-of-bitches in the universe."

"And here I thought we were done with having such great fun today," Malcolm said sarcastically.

"Listen up," the lead assailant shouted, firing his weapon into the ceiling. Many of the delegates screamed in fear and cowered to the floor. "As long as no one misbehaves, and no one tries to play hero, you may just get to walk out of here, rather than being carried out, feet first!" He continued to speak as his comrades held weapons on the delegates.

"There's only twelve of 'em" Trip whispered to Malcolm. He looked at Trip incredulously.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Not sure," Trip replied. "But you know I'm not gonna allow myself to be taken hostage."

"First thing we're gonna do is get a few volunteers to help us tie up a few of you lovely hostages", the leader said. Any volunteers?"

Trip held up his hand. He looked over at Malcolm, who slowly held up his hand.

"Aw, a couple of brave aliens," the leader with the phase rifle said. "Thank

you. And, be advised that because of your brave act, I will kill you last!"

He beckoned for Trip and Malcolm to follow him. They walked about 15 feet away suddenly Trip made a running leap onto the wall; and for a few seconds, it looked as if he was actually running on the wall. Using the wall as leverage, he pushed off of it and landed just in front of the lead assailant. He turned his body into the assailant's body, grabbed his arm and pointed his weapon at his fellow kidnappers. With Trip guiding the weapon, the assailant mowed down seven of his own people. Still a bit stunned by what had just happened, Trip then snatched the weapon from the leader and turning quickly hit the man in the head with it. He fell to the floor unconscious.

The commotion caused the remaining assailants to turn away from the hostages just for a moment, allowing Malcolm and his security team members to pounce on them and subdue them before they could effectively fire their weapons. Although several delegates were grazed or hit in the leg and/or arm by random weapons fire, no one was seriously injured.

Malcolm hurried over and took control of the situation, rounding up the remaining assailants, and turning them over to local law enforcement. Suddenly, another terrorist appeared from nowhere brandishing an assault weapon. He yelled something to the group and tried to fire a shot into the ceiling. But before he could fire a shot, Trip ran straight for him and did a flying leap, grabbing the assailant by the neck with his feet and brought him to the floor with him. The weapon went flying. Then, Trip kicked his captive in the head with a booted foot, knocking him unconscious. Everyone erupted into applause and cheering.

Back On Enterprise-Sick Bay.

Captain Archer sat on a bio-bed listening to Lt. Hess describe what had occurred in engineering when the aliens invaded them.

"They managed to sabotage the plasma flow inter-mix, Sir. It's going to take some time to sort it out," she reported. "But, Captain, it was Commander Tucker. He fought off three of those aliens single handedly, Sir."

Archer looked up at Hess. "Go on," he said.

"He fought off the first one, and was able to render him unconscious. We know because the aliens beamed out the ones that were still alive. They left the dead. There were two in engineering."

"Commander Tucker?" Archer asked. Hess nodded. "What exactly did he do?"

"Well, Sir, one of the aliens had Rostov. The Commander just came up behind the alien and twisted his neck," she said, still not believing what she had witnessed with her own eyes. "I didn't know he knew how to do something like that! I mean, I've known Comm…"

"Lieutenant," Archer interrupted. "What else happened?"

"Captain, what he did next…at least what I think he did…" Sir, he was attacked from behind. He fought the alien, flipped him over, then… then Sir, he…'

"Go on," Archer said.

"Commander Tucker, he, he put his hand through the alien's mid-section. I mean all the way through, l-like a knife! And, and, he pulled it out…and his whole forearm was covered with the alien's blood!"

"How the hell did he do that?!" Archer snapped.

"I dunno Sir. But there's more."

"More?"

"Yes Captain. He threw us all out of engineering, sealed himself in, and… prevented the warp core breach all by himself. He was… amazing Sir." Captain Archer sat stunned. He didn't know what to think or believe right now. He swung his head over the side of the bed in an attempt to get up.

"Oh no," Phlox said running over to where the Captain was. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I've got to meet with my senior staff, Phlox, I've got to go." As he slid off the bio-bed, he nearly fell to the floor from dizziness. Phlox and Hess caught him.

"You have a concussion Captain, a serious concussion. If you're lucky, I may release you tomorrow morning, but not a minute sooner. Now lie down." Phlox then turned to Hess. "You may leave Lieutenant," he said with a big smile.

Just then Malcolm and T'Pol entered sick bay as Hess exited. "Captain, "T'Pol said.

"I heard you'd been injured T'Pol," the Captain asked.

"Just a bump on the head," she said as she touched the bruise on the right side of her head.

"How are you feeling Captain?" Malcolm asked.

"Fine, forget about me. I've heard a couple of incredible stories today, about what happened in engineering when the aliens boarded us." T'Pol and Malcolm glanced at one another.

"If you're talking about what Trip did down there Captain," Malcolm began, "it's all true, every word of it. We've got the footage to prove it." Archer frowned and shook his head in disbelief. He immediately grabbed it as if in pain.

"Phlox," T'Pol called out. The doctor hurried over with a hypo spray. Archer pushed it away.

"Captain, don't be foolish, this will ease the pain."

"I'm sure it will, and knock me out in the process."

"A little rest will only help your recovery," Phlox said as he once again tried to press the hypo against his neck. Archer moved away.

"Not now doctor, I want to hear this," he said and waived the doctor off. Phlox grumbled something about stubborn humans and walked away to attend another patient.

"I want the disc," Archer said to Malcolm. "I want to view it for myself, right away."

"Aye Captain,' but there's more." Archer raised both eyebrows and looked at Malcolm, then T'Pol.

"Well?"

"Captain, while you were unconscious, the aliens attempted to abduct me. I was taken to shuttle bay two at gun point. The alien wanted me to pilot the vessel and hold me hostage to ensure Enterprise did not destroy it."

"Well, you're standing here, so obviously it didn't work."

"No Sir, it didn't," Malcolm interjected, "thanks to Commander Tucker. Myself, Trip and two MACOS found out where the alien had taken T'Pol. We made it just as they were about to enter the shuttle pod. We were greeted by two other aliens with weapons. We were at a standoff."

"One of the aliens lifted me in front of him in order to shield himself from harm, while he held a weapon to my head," T'Pol explained. "They ordered the Commander and the others to throw their weapons down or I would be killed."

"But, Trip had something else in mind," Malcolm said. "Captain, he fired a perfect shot, just over T'Pol's head, hitting the alien right between the eyes. It was an amazing shot Sir. Only an expertly trained marksman could have done it." Archer just stared.

"He saved my life," T'Pol said.

"Actually Sir, Commander Tucker is responsible for saving over 200 lives today," Malcolm said. Archer's eyes bulged out as he raised both eyebrows.

"What?" he asked puzzled.

"Captain, once we got the delegates back on the surface, we were invited to a reception. A hostage situation occurred."

"You've got to be joking," Archer said, shaking his head.

"If only Sir," Malcolm replied.

"Let me guess, Commander Charles Tucker III, did something to prevent it?"

"Something quite phenomenal, if I might say Sir. But, you have to see this to believe it. I couldn't begin to describe it."

"Get me that footage Malcolm, right now, as well as the footage from Engineering."

"Aye Captain," Malcolm said and turned to go. T'Pol followed.

For the next few weeks there was talk all over the ship, about the Aphrodite Mission, how Trip had faked a warp core breach to scare off an enemy vessel, caused a warp core breach to destroy an enemy vessel, and prevented a warp core breach back on Enterprise to save the entire crew. There was gossip about how he had killed a Xindi Reptilian with his bare hands, reaching into his chest cavity and pulling out his heart; some said he then ate it!

The crew couldn't stop talking about how he fought off intruders on the Aphrodite, running back and forward between the bridge and Engineering, all while having been shot and with several large pieces of shrapnel literally hanging out of his chest, just a fraction of an inch away from his heart.

There was also talk about how he fired an impossible shot over T'Pol's head to kill the Xindi that was using her as a shield in front of him, hitting him right between the eyes. Some said Trip had fired the shot so closely that it had parted T'Pol's hair right down the middle, and that you could see the phase pistol debris on the tips of her ears.

And last but not least, everyone had heard about what happened on the planet surface at the conference where the delegates were almost taken hostage, where people swore that they had seen a man fly. And the rumors just kept flying as well. There were a lot of stories floating around. Then, there was the truth, and it was amazing all by itself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Eleven

Three Weeks Later.

Trip had just finished an inspection in Engineering, something he rarely did, but they had dignitaries coming aboard in just a few hours.

"Everything looks great Anna," he said to Hess as he finished his rounds. "I'm very proud of you. You have become a fine Engineer. You're gonna make a great Chief some day."

"Thank you Sir," she beamed, "I have learned so much from you. You're the best CO I've ever had. And if you don't mind me saying, Sir, I am so proud of you! We all are; proud to be serving under you." Trip smiled a bit. He knew what she was talking about, without actually saying it.

A year ago he had been a basket case. Many wondered if he would ever recover, if he was in fact finished. But he did recover, and he was so different now. Gone was the Trip Tucker who had gotten lost and injured multiple times on away missions. Gone was the loud-mouth, hot-head, who flew off the handle when angry. Gone was the Trip Tucker that had the record for sick bay visits. He was still charming and full of personality; he still endeared people to him and was generally well liked by everyone. But he was no longer the naive, wide-eyed, Chief Engineer full of wonder and often waiting to be rescued due to a mission gone wrong. He was now a serious, deeply respected Commanding Officer; a warrior and a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks," he said softly. "I appreciate that. There were times when I didn't think I would still be here myself."

"But you are Sir, and I'm so glad you are." Just then Rostov walked up.

"Commander," he said. "Inspection Report, needs your signature." Trip took the padd from Rostov, looked over it and was about to sign off when he noticed something. Under the signature line his name appeared, Commander Charles Tucker III, Chief Engineer, BA252.

"What the hell does BA25, squared mean?" he asked frowning. Rostov and Hess looked at one another. Hess made a face at Rostov. He closed his eyes and looked down as if he had just been busted. He had put the code there in jest, and had shown it to several crew members who got a kick out of it, but had inadver-tently forgotten to remove it before presenting the padd to Trip.

"Well?" Trip asked. Hess straightened up and cleared her throat.

"It means… uh… Bad-Ass, to the 25th power," she said. "That's what everybody calls you, Sir." Trip looked at Hess, then at Rostov.

"Get rid of that," he said, thrusting the padd back to Rostov, "and don't let me see it again!" They watched him go as he left them standing alone.

"To the 25th power," Hess whispered to Rostov. They bumped fists and walked away in different directions.

Captain's Ready Room 1030 hours.

Everyone was dressed in formal dress whites. Captain Archer had ordered them to do so to take pictures for a commercial back home. Although everyone had groaned and moaned about it, they had complied. Now they all sat, tugging on their collars, pulling at the dressy uniforms and looking very uncomfortable. Archer smiled a bit at that, but thought they looked very dapper.

"Captain, we have been able to identify the species that attacked us," T'Pol said. "They are called Xindi. My people are unfamiliar with them, and there is practically no information forthcoming about them.

"Phlox, what were you able to find out from your autopsy of the bodies they left behind?" Archer asked.

"From what I could tell Captain, the aliens were of two different species. One Insectsoid, the other Reptilian. However, they both appear to be Indi, and from what I understand, there are at least three other species of Xindi, the Primates, the Abboreals and the Aquatics. Other than that, I'm afraid I can't be of more help."

"I appreciate all of your hard work," Archer said to Phlox and T'Pol.

"We find out anything about the reason why they attacked us?" Trip asked.

"Not a clue," Malcolm spoke up. "But, you can be assured that it was not a random attack. They were targeting us."

"Just make sure if they show up again, we're ready," Archer replied.

"You can count on it Captain," Reed replied.

"On a different note, Trip you've got some people that really want to show you their thanks and appreciation for what you did in getting the Denobulans and the Betazoids home, last month. The C'Darsians are also very grateful for getting those prisoners returned and the hostages they took back home to their families."

"Just doing my job Sir," Trip replied.

"Actually Commander," Archer replied, you went above and beyond the call of duty. The Denobulans wanted to give you three young women to marry." Everyone laughed, except T'Pol of course. "The Betazoids wanted to grant you a title and Knight you." Trip looked embarrassed.

"Capt'n, please Sir, like I said, just doing my job."

"That's not all, the C'Darsians wanted to give you 50 gold bars of pure latnium."

"Maybe you ought to take that," Hoshi teased. "You never know when you're going to run into a group of Ferengi wanting to make a deal. And as you know, they love gold." Everyone laughed.

"I think you ought to take the women," Travis grinned.

"I concur, whole heartedly," Malcolm teased.

"As do I Commander," Phlox grinned. "Think of it, three healthy, young Denobulan women! You don't know what you're missing!"

"Uggh!" Hoshi said. "You men are all alike…"

"Alright, alright," Archer interrupted. "The point is Trip, you've done exemplary work over the last few months, and we are all very proud of you. Considering, …that's it's been almost a year since you were abducted by the Lisyrians, and everything you went through afterwards. But you fought your way back. You didn't give up, and here you are, right where you belong."

"Here, here!" Travis yelled out. 'Whoop, whoop! Whoop, whoop!" Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis cheered, while Phlox and T'Pol clapped.

"Which brings me to the other reason we're here today," Archer added. "There's someone else who wants to give you something Trip."

"Sir?" he said looked totally confused. "Whadda you mean, they want to give me somethin'? I didn't do what I did to get a present. I don't want anything, from anybody."

"Too bad," Archer said. "Ensign Sato," please escort Commander Tucker to the bridge. Hoshi went over and took Trip's arm. He looked at her like she had two heads.

"Come on," she said through her teeth. Trip sighed and stood up, allowing Hoshi to take his arm. When he stepped out onto the bridge, several other crew members were already there, including his second in command, Lt. Hess and Ensign Rostov. He was even more surprised to see Admiral Forrest on the bridge in the flesh. There were several MACOs there holding their weapons and saluting. Several Admirals were on one side of the screen, on the other was Trip's family.

"Ten Hut!" Major Hayes called out as everyone stood at attention. Hoshi escorted Trip to center of the bridge floor.

"Commander Charles Anthony Tucker, III, it is a privilege and with great honor that I stand here today for this ceremony, Admiral Wallace, began. You have been recommended for and been approved to receive the Medal of Honor for bravery and valor for your actions and leadership during Mission Aphrodite; for demonstrating self-sacrifice, and courage despite extreme peril that you faced including the capture and secure transport of eighteen dangerous criminals; for heroism in helping to ensure the safety of your crew and other Citizens without the loss of a single life after an unprovoked attack from Orion slavers and Rigelian pirates, despite being injured.

Captain Archer stepped up and pinned the medal onto Trip's uniform. He looked stunned.

"Commander Tucker," Admiral Black said stepping up to the front. "It has been recommended and approved that you receive the Cochrane Medal of Excellence for Science and Engineering, for your exceptional work with Cloaking Device and Defensive Shield Technology. Starfleet is extremely fortunate and grateful that you have obtained this technology and that it may be studied and developed for use in our future endeavors."

Captain Archer stepped up and pinned the engineering medal to Trip's uniform.

"Commander Tucker," Admiral Forrest said moving next to Trip, "If this keeps up we'll be here all day," he quipped. Everyone laughed. "It is with great pleasure to inform you that you have been recommended for and approved to receive the Bronze Star, for bravery and valor for actions aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise; for combat skill in defending your colleagues, for expert marksmanship thus deflecting a hostage situation, for exemplary skill, creativity and ingenuity in preventing a warp core breach, ultimately saving the lives of 83 crewmen and 20 delegates". Forrest then stepped forward and pinned the Bronze Star on Trip's uniform.

"Lastly," Forrest said, "and finally," they all laughed again. "It is an honor and a pleasure Commander Tucker, to award you the Gold Bar, the highest award given by Starfleet, recommended and approved by the core of Admirals, for demonstrating strength of courage, particularly in the face of great danger, without regard for your own safety during Mission Aphrodite, aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise while under attack, and the Alcerion Medical Conference hostage situation ensuring the safety of 119 people. Commander Tucker, your heroic acts collectively over the last month, has earned you this honor. Forrest pinned the bar to Trip's uniform and stepped back. He then saluted Trip; everyone else followed suit. Trip saluted back.

"Congratulations Commander," Captain Archer said, smiling as he shook Trip's hand. Everyone cheered, along with his family. His mother and sisters cried. Trip had come such a long way since last year. He had been broken and lost, now here he was receiving medals.

"Speech! Speech!' Everyone shouted. Trip looked at the Screen at the Admirals who had just honored him. He looked at his family. His mother blew him a kiss. Then he looked around the bridge at his colleagues and fellow officers.

"Thank you Sirs," he said to the Admirals. "I just appreciate being given the opportunity to remain on Enterprise and to continue my career after last year's unfortunate events," he said as some looked down, others just nodded.

"Thanks Tuckers, for being there for me when things we're going so great," he said to his family. "Thanks for letting me know that I'll always have a home to come to, no matter what the circumstances are."

"Thanks everybody, bridge crew, my engineering officers. You have all been so great in helping me put things back together. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for you guys. Thanks for your patience, your understanding and your support."

Then he turned and looked at his Captain, his friend for over ten years. "Thank you Captain," he said, "for not giving up on me and believing in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. I'll never forget that," he said. He then smiled a small smile and lowered his head trying not to become emotional. "Thanks to everyone."

"Alright everybody!" Archer said, rescuing his friend before he broke down. "We still have a ship to run, let's get back to work."

They all said goodbyes, but before his family signed off, Trip looked at his father. Both had tears in their eyes, "Rise Above!" his father said.

"Rise Above!" Trip replied.

No one else knew what that meant, but the two Tucker men did. It was something between them that was unspoken, but known. It had not required words before, it would not ever again. They just both knew; that from out of the ashes, with renewed strength and vitality, uniquely remarkable, vibrant and colorful, with eyes like sapphires, to live through another cycle…the Phoenix, had risen!


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

T'Pol was quiet but worked carefully as she applied the neuro-pressure technique to Commander Tucker's back and neck. He occasionally still exper-ienced back pain from having had his back broken over a year ago. He was also having anxiety and trouble sleeping. As before, T'Pol had suggested she work with Trip to help relieve some of the anxiety and the insomnia.

"I still can't believe how great this feels, and how much it helps," Trip said to T'Pol as he lay on his stomach, on her bunk in her quarters.

"I am glad to be of assistance Commander," she replied. "The ship cannot afford to have its Chief Engineer incapacitated due to lack of sleep." There was several more minutes of silence. T'Pol finally stopped.

"I believe that should be sufficient for this evening," she said.

"Oh wow, I feel great. Thanks T'Pol," he smiled as he rose up from her bunk. "Your turn."

"Commander, I believe I will forgo my session tonight. I am rather tired and I would like to meditate before I retire," she said acting uncomfortable.

"Nonsense. You deserve your turn, you've earned it. So get up here and turn around."

T'Pol looked at Trip for a few moments, then slowly rose from the floor beside the bed. She removed her pajama top and turned her back to him as she sat on the bed. He began to apply the techniques that she had taught him and that he had been practicing for the last several weeks.

T'Pol bit down on her lower lip and tried not to let the moan that was slowly cascading up from her belly, escape her lips. His presence of late was doing things to her that she didn't understand and didn't know how to handle. She had begun to look so very forward to their private, half-naked, Vulcan neuro-pressure sessions. His smile was warm and inviting, and those eyes. Had he always had those beautiful, alluring eyes? His hard body was affecting her every time she touched it, making her feel warm and sweaty. His smell was intoxicating and his touch was about to make her lose her control. She had to stop this. He had to go. If he didn't, she couldn't be responsible for what she might do next. She jerked away.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong? Didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, Commander. However, I think it would be prudent for you to leave now," she said rising and quickly putting her top on. She started to move toward the door as he sat there just watching her.

"T'Pol, what did I do? You know you can tell me. We've gotten pretty close over the last few months, we've shared a lot of stuff; personal stuff. So c'mom, sit down. Tell me what's bothering you."

T'Pol hesitated, then slowly moved over to the bed and sat down. She tried not to look at him, but he took her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him.

"Now, what is wrong?"

"Nothing…everything."

"What's that's supposed to mean?"

"Your presence is… is affecting me."

"Really," he said. "In what way?" She did not answer and he did not push the issue. They just sat there staring at one another for a few moments, very intensely.

"Command…." Before she could finish her sentence, he pulled her close to

him and kissed her. She stiffened at first and he almost pulled back. But, then her body relaxed and she kissed him back. They finally came up for air after a few moments. He waited for her reaction. She bounded up from the bed and again moved toward the door.

"Please leave!" she said with a heightened tone. He did not move at first, but just watched her. He then slowly picked up his T-shirt from the floor and walked toward the door where she was standing. He stood over her looking down at her. He reached out and placed his hand behind her neck caressing it softly. She almost lost it.

"Do you really want me to leave?" he asked in a hushed voice. She did not, could not answer. She just let out a small moan as he stroked the tip of her ear.

"I didn't think so," he said, then kissed her again. It was a long passionate kiss which she fully participated in. He then lifted her in his arms and took her back to her bunk, he put her down on it and moved on top of her, and they were lost in the passion of each other for several hours.

THE END

Coming at a Later Date: The Phoenix Unconquered


End file.
